


Control

by wonderbug



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Angst, Dark, Erotica, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2019-07-05 14:06:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 48,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15865128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderbug/pseuds/wonderbug
Summary: A widowed Kagome unearths her brother-in-law's dark and terrible secret - a fixation which even the powerful Shikon Miko may not be able to bring to heel. [SessKag, CU]





	1. The Eye of the Storm

_Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha._

**WARNING: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.**

Author's note: Hey everyone! :) Started this series on my blog recently and thought I'd share it here as well. Updates may be a little sporadic since in the future, I'll likely combine blog posts before publishing them as chapters here - but for the latest updates, you can always visit my blog directly! (Link in my profile!) **Please heed the above warning & don't continue if you're the least bit squeamish of, well,  _anything_ ** 

Thanks, and hope you enjoy!

**- Prelude -**

**The Eye of the Storm**

She was taking down her hair when she felt him enter, the whisper of his youki trailing like a tangible shadow over her skin—even through the layered fabric of her clothes. He didn't bother to announce himself as he stepped across the threshold, and in her mind she added another strike to his tally of offenses.

Frowning, Kagome turned toward the door.

Sesshoumaru's expression was stoic as he stood before her—but she knew that wouldn't last. If he was here—in her home, at this time of night—there could only be one reason for it.

"So, you've got the urge again," she surmised narrowly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Levelly, Sesshoumaru met her gaze. "Yes."

"Show me, then."

Slender claws rose to the clasps of his armor. As the heavy plates fell away from him, Kagome's jaw clenched in aversion. Sure enough, she could see it, rising with a slight pulse through the ivory silk of his hakama—the manifestation of his vile, stirring lust.

Turning partly away from him, she bit out tersely, " _Down_."

Hidden beneath his haori, the rosary around his neck responded to that single spoken word of subjugation, bringing the powerful daiyoukai to his knees in an instant. Sesshoumaru's eyes flashed red as he snarled, Kagome sending him a sharp look of reproval in return. It wasn't in his nature to be in a position of submission, but it wasn't in  _her_  nature to suffer monsters.

Striding forward, she brought her glowing palm to the side of his face in a resounding slap, the purifying sting of her reiki bleeding the bestial heat from his gaze. Sesshoumaru's head snapped to the side, his golden eyes slanting up at her in a seething glare as he gouged his claws into her well-kept floor. Kagome's smarting hand balled to a fist at her side.

"It's been less than a week since the last time," she muttered accusingly. "What have you done?"

Something had happened to set him off, and as the heated gaze trained upon her darkened, she had an inkling of what it might be.

"This afternoon," he answered in a toe-curling murmur, "I watched you bathe."

It was just as she had thought. Kagome swallowed tightly in indignation.

"You have no right, Sesshoumaru." Her voice trembled as she advanced upon him, reiki crackling from her fingers as she jerked him back by the hair. "You have absolutely  _no right_  to put your filthy eyes on me like that.  _Ever_."

His lips peeled back in fury, the full length of his fangs exposed as he continued to stare up at her in undeterred want. Kagome's stomach twisted, her free hand flying to his face—trying in vain to wipe away that loathsome, disturbing expression. Hot angry tears boiled in the corners of her eyes. Panting, she drew back once more as his claws lifted and caught her around the hips. A few gossamer strands broke off in her stiff fingers as he surged forward and growled hungrily into the junction of her thighs.

" _Yes, Kagome."_ His nose crushed to her groin, scenting her deeply through the dense material of her hakama. "... _Punish me._ "

Forcing apart her lower cheeks, he fit his whole, scorching mouth to her, his rough tongue rasping along the central inner seam. Kagome shivered viscerally in response, releasing her tense hold on him in a harsh backward shove.

"Get  _down_ ," she snapped, sending him to the floor once again. "And get on with it, already. I’m tired."

On some level she had realized this might come to pass—that she might become the focal point for his repulsive fixation. It was unnerving to say the least, yet she did her best to steel herself against it as he locked eyes with her in carnal intent. There was a rustle of silk, a glimpse of flushed skin as he freed himself. His simmering gaze flicked down, but Kagome refused to follow the motion—she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

Conceding to this, he began to stroke himself in her presence. His breathing grew ragged, his sharp look soon dulling with pleasure. He was gazing up at her still, but Kagome knew he wasn't really  _seeing_  her. His hooded eyes were glazed and distant—whatever he was truly seeing was fixed somewhere behind them. Kagome's skin prickled at the thought that it might be some stolen image of her from earlier that day.

Her pulse thundered in contemplation of this—though given all the unforgivable things he had done to sate his base desires, it might be for the best if he pictured her, after all.

As his pleasure mounted, his fangs showed again in a glint of white, his sleeve rippling as his arm moved with increasing ferocity and speed. A cold glance from her stilled the trickle of red leaching into his gaze.

“Let me taste you,” he rasped out on a growl, his attention suddenly and fiercely riveted on her sex.

It wasn’t unusual for him to make these sorts of requests. It wasn’t unusual for her to deny them, either. Typically, he wanted to look at her—but since he had already taken  _that_  particular liberty today, his rapacious lust was gaming for more.

Kagome scowled down at him. As if she would  _ever_  let his mouth actually touch her there...

Inuyasha would roll in his grave.

Still, she knew how things would end if she remained totally inflexible. He’d keep her here half the night while he hovered on the brink of release. Once he got something in his head, he was obsessive about it—as she understood all too well.

Letting out a breath of exasperation, Kagome loosened the ties of her hakama slightly and slipped her hand below the waist. As her fingertips met the damp crotch of her underwear, she quickly schooled her expression. Knowing he was watching her slightest movement, she ignored the slickness that filmed her outer folds and dipped into her core instead—as if she were bone-dry and this was only way to glean her essence from her.

But she couldn’t disguise the shimmering thread of moisture that trailed from her hand as she lifted it out. She couldn’t disguise the wetness that webbed between her offered fingers as he parted them with the sharp wedge of his thumb. Taking both of them into his burning mouth at once, he sucked and scraped at her with his fangs and tongue, rumbling as he jerked savagely into the vise of his fist, his seed splashing against her bare feet in a hot, musky current.

Kagome stepped back from Sesshoumaru in revulsion—repressing the wild angry impulse to yell at him to clean her off. Instead, she glared down at him, his feral features unhinged and jagged still as his lengthened claws strained the last, obscene remnants of his release from him.

_This_  was the real Sesshoumaru—the depraved beast that lurked beneath the perfect marble face and stony composure. She could see past his stoic mask to the dark, raging depths of that depravity, and the carnage it could bring.

She was the only living person who had seen it—and the only person who could contain it.

And although she resented it, she  _would_ —because debased and monstrous as he was, Sesshoumaru was the only family she had left.

As he rose from the floor and donned his armor, his impassive facade was in place once more. But it was only a matter of time, she knew, before the caged beast within him threatened to rampage again.

When it did, she would have to be ready.

As Sesshoumaru turned to leave, his shadowed gaze slid over her, lingering.

“...Sister,” he bid to her in parting as he stepped through the door and out into the night.

Glued to the floor, Kagome stared warily after him, her nails cutting crescents into her palms. She would have to be ready again—

_Soon_.


	2. What Ails You

**\- What Ails You -**

**Six Months Earlier**

Kagome knelt before the altar, placing a few fresh sticks of incense into the small burnished bowl. As fragrant smoke rose before the granite face of her husband’s grave, she bowed her head in love and remembrance.

Warm spring air ebbed and flowed around her. A few loose strands of her hair tickled at her cheeks. For a moment, she imagined the gust of his breath, the whisper of his own fine hair against her skin. The image was so vivid in her mind, so real to her in that moment, that her fingers twitched with the impulse to reach out and pull him close to her once again.

"Inuyasha," she whispered tremulously.

But it was not his voice who answered her—as the air around her stilled and darkened, a pall of deathly silence descending over the surrounding woods.

"Kagome."

Opening her eyes, she stood, turning toward the one who'd addressed her. In the fading light of dusk, there was a reflective cast to his golden gaze, an elliptical widening of his slitted pupils. His long, silver-white hair faintly gleamed, only a shade or two darker than the pearly silk that clothed him. The dark metals that composed his spiked, plated armor hardened his otherwise ethereal image—along with the wicked sword that hung at his side.

"Sesshoumaru," she greeted, straining a smile.

At times, it was hard for her to look at him. His resemblance to Inuyasha was so striking in some ways—from his hair and his eyes, to his fangs and his claws. Yet in other ways, they were nothing alike, and this is what Kagome reminded herself of as she stepped forward to meet him.

"You detected me?" she asked lightly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I've been working a lot on concealment recently, and I thought I had it down pat."

"No," he replied, glancing briefly toward the graves. "I simply knew that this is where you would be."

"Oh." Kagome's lashes lowered as she looked aside. "I'm a creature of habit, I guess."

Barring her absence from the village or some sort of emergency, not a day had gone by over the past two years where Kagome didn't stop here to pay her respects to her departed husband. What the villagers—and even her friends—had at first considered a touching gesture they now viewed as an unhealthy preoccupation. Even Sango had remarked to her a couple of weeks back that there was nothing to be gained from dwelling on the loss of loved ones. The pointed concern in her friend’s expression hadn’t gone unnoticed by Kagome.

In a more subtle sense, she got the feeling Sesshoumaru disapproved of this ritual of hers as well. But even if he did, she knew he would never say anything to her—he wouldn’t consider it his place.

As she met his shadowed gaze once more, all he said to her in response was, “As am I.”

Kagome’s grip on her upper arms tightened fractionally. There was something decidedly unnerving about her brother-in-law. Though she’d grown more accustomed to him over the years, she still wouldn’t say that she was comfortable around him.

His thoughts and motivations were as obscure to her as his inscrutable, alien features. It wasn’t just her miko senses alarming at the threat of his demonic nature—it was something else, a more basic, primal intuition warning her to keep her distance from him.

But he was the one who was approaching her, his preternatural eyes following the course of her hand with predatory focus as she tucked the trailing end of her bangs behind an ear. A foot or so away from her, he stopped, his claws extracting a small glinting item from the neck of his haori.

“The venom!” Kagome said in surprise, her wariness giving way to sudden excitement as she took the flask of vitriolic purple liquid from him. “You managed to collect some.”

She lifted the vial before her in the dwindling light, her eyes narrowing at the bands of darkness that coalesced and fractured within it. Extending her reiki with careful precision, she purified the lingering demonic aura, the serum’s noxious glare dimming to a muted glow.

“Will it suffice?” he asked her.

Kagome nodded, slipping the thin bottle into her satchel. “I think so.”

Properly distilled, the venom of this particular demonic serpent was a powerful panacea—although extracting it must have been a chore, even for someone of Sesshoumaru’s strength and resistance. With summer fast approaching, poisonous encounters of all kinds were a guarantee. One boy already lay perilously sick from what Kagome suspected was the bite of a spider youkai hatchling. Just one drop of this remedy would be enough to cure him.

If only all misfortunes could be so easily purged away...

With a faint, wistful smile, she met Sesshoumaru’s gaze. “Thank you.”

As they descended the steps of the shrine together, Kagome and Sesshoumaru's conversation fell into the usual, well-worn routine. She spoke to him of the progress Rin was making in her studies. He spoke to her of the state of affairs in the Western Lands. She told him of the measures she'd taken to further protect the region. He told her of the demons he had slain.

Inuyasha was never mentioned, yet he still seemed to be present between them—a phantom they both felt but refused to acknowledge. Even as the shrine and its graves faded into the distance, the specter of her husband remained.

After a short detour to deliver the purified venom to Kaede, their path took them to a modest house at the edge of the village. At the curtained door, Kagome paused, expecting Sesshoumaru to continue on his way. Yet like a ghost himself, he lingered at her porch step, his pale form faintly glowing in the near dark.

“Something is troubling you,” he observed.

Frowning, Kagome hesitated, worrying at the strap of her satchel. “...Another body was found, yesterday.”

At her guarded tone, he frowned as well. “Is that so?”

The miko nodded. “From what Miroku told me, the attack seems to fit the pattern. He convinced the victim's family to delay her cremation—in case I wanted to see for myself.” Eyes narrowing, she looked toward the north. “The village is only a day's ride away. If I leave first thing in the morning—”

“Kagome.”

Setting her jaw, she met his flinty gaze. His expression was edged with disapproval. Since Inuyasha's death, Sesshoumaru had discouraged her from traveling beyond Edo and its surrounding territories. She supposed he considered it his pack obligation to look out for her safety, and although she appreciated the sentiment, she resented the overbearance. The only reason why they hadn't come to odds over it before is because—since Inuyasha's death—Kagome hadn't  _wanted_  to leave the village.

"This is the first real lead I've had in years," she maintained stubbornly. "I have to go." Her gaze sharpened. "I'm going."

For a moment, he considered her in silence. Kagome clenched her fingers to keep them from trembling.

"I will go with you," he declared at last.

And now Kagome considered  _him_ —considered the prospect of them being alone and abroad together in the wilderness. Level with hers despite her elevated position, his golden eyes glinted, unblinking. A chill of unease threaded down Kagome's spine. She shook her head.

"You'd frighten the villagers," she insisted, pushing her own reservations aside.

Sesshoumaru inclined his chin, his gaze no less intent. "Kohaku will accompany you, then."

Kagome swallowed. Despite his gracious manner, his words had a cold, steely finality to them. Grudgingly, she nodded in assent. There was no point in arguing if he was just going to have Kohaku follow her, anyway. And with the taijiya's skills in youkai tracking, she could hardly say that he'd be a hindrance.

Having gotten his way, the daiyoukai parted from her with a trailing glance. Kagome bristled in the wake of it, glaring after her brother-in-law as his unearthly figure vanished into the gathering dark.

Alone in her home, she went at once to a long trunk near her bedside. Unclasping it with icy fingers, she reverently pushed aside Inuyasha's sword, robe and rosary and withdrew a weathered map of ancient Japan. Unrolling the length of parchment and pinning down the fraying edges with a couple of cups, Kagome added another small 'x' to the collection of kohl markers that littered its surface.

One mark, for each known victim.

There were dozens scattered across the four lands—each one a testament to Kagome's failure. Each one a reminder of her own crippling loss. It was in pursuit of this killer—this  _Beast_ , as she had come to refer to him in her mind—that Inuyasha had perished. She could no sooner let go of this phantom monster than she could let go of her husband's memory. If Kagome harbored any true obsession, then maybe it was this.

She would never rest until the killings ended. This was her vow to her departed husband—this was what kept her even now, in her most dire moments, from joining him in the ground.

The stick of kohl crumbled in her fist. Her hard gaze fastened on the latest 'x' she'd drawn. This victim would be the last. She would not let another defenseless young woman share in this terrible fate. She would live up to her legacy—and her husband's.

She would put a stop to this demon.


	3. The Dead Don't Lie

**- The Dead Don't Lie -**

Shortly after dawn, Kohaku arrived with Kirara in tow. Outside on the porch, Kagome was armed and ready. Giving the transformed firecat a pat of greeting, she readjusted her bow across her back and swung up behind the waiting taijiya. At once the three of them took to the sky, heading north toward the village where Miroku had discovered the Beast's most recent victim.

"Tell me more about this demon, Kagome-san," Kohaku requested, as Edo village disappeared behind them.

Drawing in a bracing breath, Kagome told him of what she knew—which, even after more than four years of exhaustive study, was disappointingly little.

"It wasn't long after the final battle with Naraku that the bodies started showing up," the miko began, curling her fingers against her thighs. "The first one was savaged so terribly that Inuyasha and I dismissed it at first—as the villagers who'd discovered it had—as a wolf attack. Looking back now, the signs were there, but it wasn't until we came across the second body a month later that it became clear to us that this was no animal." A sick feeling settled like a brick in the pit of her stomach. "...An animal doesn't brutalize a girl in that way."

"...I see," Kohaku replied uneasily.

Sharing in his discomfort, Kagome continued, "Once we suspected a youkai, we knew we weren't up against the average sort. There was no trace of youki on the victim—there wasn't even a scent trail. Like the first girl, the second had been pulled from the water—so any physical evidence of the killer had long been washed away."

"This demon sounds adept at covering his tracks," Kohaku remarked, glancing back at her. "It certainly is unusual. Youkai typically don't concern themselves with hiding their attacks against humans."

"That's what Inuyasha said, too," Kagome replied with a frown. "Anyway, all we really had to go on was the evidence of the victim herself. Inuyasha searched for miles around, but her scent trail was a bust. The girl had been dead for days, washed downriver—there was no telling where she'd originally come from, how far she'd really traveled from the scene of the crime. So we watched and we waited. Over a month went by before we heard of another such killing—then just a week. More often than not, though, by the time we got wind of an attack, the remains had already been burned and buried. Even when we did have the victim's evidence to work with, we kept hitting the same wall. No youki, no scent, no tracks of any kind left by the perpetrator himself."

"And there was no common thread between the killings?" Kohaku ventured after a moment's thought. "Nothing to predict where or when the demon would strike next?— _whom_  he would strike next?"

Kagome's frown deepened. As the months, and then the years, had worn on without success, Inuyasha had become increasingly determined to hunt down this demon. She remembered his keen frustration, his intense disappointment every time a rumor turned to nothing, every time a trail led to another dead end. So many nights he'd spent pacing, unable to eat or to sleep. The deaths of those girls had affected him deeply, and he'd fixated on their killer in a way Kagome had never seen before. Toward the end of his life, she'd started to distress over his growing mania—some of the things he had begun to say to her, about how Tessaiga whispered to him, about how he could he could feel it, like a brooding in his blood, when the Beast was poised to strike...

Suppressing these dark and disturbing recollections, Kagome shook her head in reply. "...None that I could see."

As they crossed into the Northern Lands, she told Kohaku more about her own theories—about how she'd begun to suspect that the demon had modified his attack pattern gradually over the years. Expanding his appetite as she saw it—attacking more often but with less brutality, or different expressions of it. So breathlessly caught up in voicing her myriad of speculations, she failed to notice at first how Kohaku had grown quiet, his troubled gaze focusing on her.

It was a familiar look—the same one Sango had once directed at her, back when Kagome had still shared such thoughts with her.

"Have you asked Sesshoumaru-sama what he thinks of this?" the taijiya inquired with gentle tact.

 _Sesshoumaru_ —the voice of reason. Kagome looked down at the deflection, abashed. Long before she'd quit speaking on the subject to Sango, she'd stopped with her brother-in-law. If anyone refused to indulge her investigation, it was him. Her lips twisted bitterly as she recalled his last flat words to her about it.

"He said that he'd never heard of another demon like it."

Glancing away from her, Kohaku nodded, as if to himself.

It was midday by the time Kagome, Kohaku, and Kirara reached the remote northern village—a small scattering of sturdy huts nestled in the foothills of a snow-capped mountain range. Isolated as they were, the residents were understandably wary of outsiders—and especially of kitten-sized Kirara. But after Kohaku and Kagome introduced themselves as close acquaintances of the villagers' erstwhile guest Miroku, the tension lifted at once.

"Houshi-sama mentioned that a priestess might come to offer us her aid," the headsman said to Kagome with a bow, extending the gesture to Kohaku in turn. "But a demon slayer as well! Truly, we are grateful you are here."

"Miko-sama," a sad-faced woman addressed Kagome as she stepped forward, the white-haired man trailing in her wake devoid of expression entirely. "We have delayed our daughter's burial at Houshi-sama's behest. Please," she implored, tears choking her voice as she dropped to her hands and knees, "come and see to her so that we may lay her to rest."

With a heavy heart, Kagome bent down to help the forlorn mother to her feet. "Of course."

The three travelers followed the couple down a winding dirt road, to a shed at the outskirts of the village. After tying back his own mask, Kohaku offered Kagome a spare mask for herself. Donning it with a word of thanks, she entered the shed first—her eyes stinging as much from the cloying scent of incense as from the stench of death itself. Even through the fine mesh of her mask, the putrid smell was stifling.

A few low-burning candles lit the shed's dark interior. Slipping on a set of leather gloves from a shelf, Kagome approached the still figure lying on a table at the back of the room. A white sheet covered the victim's body—only the girl's face was visible above it. Behind her mask, Kagome grimaced at the sight of the girl's pasty, bloated features, deformed by death and prolonged exposure. Long ropes of raven-dark hair spilled out across the table behind her, bent around the corpse's head and shoulders in a coarse, spidery halo.

"We need to turn her over," Kagome said grimly to Kohaku.

Nodding, the taijiya circled around to the table's other side, helping Kagome to rotate the heavy, waterlogged corpse. Like all the others, this girl's body had been found face-down and floating—fortunately for her family, in a mountain spring not overly far from the village. Kagome could only wonder at how many other despondent parents were still searching for their own missing daughters, who would never return home.

Pushing the thought aside with difficulty, Kagome focused on the gruesome task at hand.

After drawing the girl's gnarled mass of locks aside, she hooked her fingers into the sheet that concealed her and carefully peeled it down. The miko's breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering in a mixture of revulsion and morbid exhilaration. Even after seeing it so many times before, the sight was still a fresh horror to her.

Deep wide gouges spanned the girl's back and sides—creating dark, jagged canyons in her flesh. As the blanket descended further, they saw that the girl's hips and backside were nearly torn to shreds, flaps of skin, fat and muscle overlapping in sickly, misshapen layers. A vicious mauling if Kagome had ever seen one—and as she gazed upon it, she found herself revising her theories. This slaying was more reminiscent of the earlier killings she had witnessed. Perhaps the Beast was going back to his roots—messy as they were, the size, depth, and array of the cuts certainly aligned with his signature.

There was only one thing left to confirm.

Placing a steadying hand on the table, Kagome looked warningly at Kohaku as she pulled the victim's covering down to her knees. One nauseated glance at the black, bloody crevice between the dead girl's thighs was all the proof Kagome needed. Her fingers jerked as she ripped the blanket back up, breathing heavily to keep the bile down—even the hardened taijiya across from her reeling away from the table with a muffled curse.

"I'm sorry," Kagome managed weakly, meeting his gaze from her hunched position. "I had to know."

"I understand," Kohaku said as he pushed off from the wall, helping her to right the girl and properly re-cover her once more.

His eyes were dark and grave as he stared down at the body—faced now, as Kagome had long since been, with the irrefutable truth of what lay before him. Tucking the victim's stringy hair gently behind her shoulder, Kagome clasped the girl's stiff hand through the sheet and closed her eyes.

"There's one more thing I'd like to try before we go."

Previously, when confronted with the Beast's victims, Kagome had relied on Inuyasha's senses to lead the way. Knowing that she had only herself to rely upon now, Kagome had spent the intervening years honing her spiritual skills, preparing herself for this fateful moment. Entering into a meditative state, she felt her reiki swell within her—let it pervade from herself into the body of the girl whose hand she held.

The victim's eternal soul had long since abandoned this poor mangled shell—and that was good. But with the gentle coaxing of her own soul, the miko urged what remained of the girl's earthly spirit to return once more, to help them learn what had happened to her flesh.

As Kagome opened her eyes, a shimmer stirred in the hazy air. Seeing it as well, Kohaku's gaze widened.

"Is that...?"

"Her ghost," Kagome answered, watching the pale shadow as it disappeared partially through the wall of the shed. "Come on," she said, turning to the mystified taijiya as she strode toward the door of the hut. "She wants us to follow her."

"Where?" Kohaku asked, walking after her.

Stripping off her gloves and mask, Kagome stepped outside. "To the place where she died."


	4. Into the Dark

**- Into the Dark -**

Taking a deep breath to clear her lungs, Kagome turned toward the victim’s parents, who were waiting just beyond the door. The father stared blankly on as Kirara cleaned her fur on the opposite side of the entryway, the mother’s somber eyes lifting to Kohaku and Kagome.

“Thank you,” the miko said, bending at the waist, “for allowing us to see her.”

The mother bowed in return, her fingers trembling at her sides. “Will you...will you be able to find her killer, Miko-sama?”

“I will,” Kagome said earnestly, taking the woman’s hands in her own. “I promise.” She looked briefly to the spirit hovering at the edge of the woods. “Will you tell me your daughter’s name?”

To everyone’s surprise, it was the girl's father who answered.

“Kanako,” he spoke woodenly, his gaze fixed on some point in the distance. “Her name was Kanako.”

“Kanako,” Kagome repeated gently, her eyes resting upon him. “I won't forget it.”

With the slightest nod, the shell-shocked man ambled toward the shed, his wife slipping her arm around him as they crossed the dark threshold together. As the slatted door closed behind them, Kagome turned resolutely to her companions.

“Let’s go.”

Kirara transformed in a blaze, the miko and taijiya vaulting atop her back. As they climbed together into the air, Kanako's ghost took off before them. Translucent and softly edged, she led them swiftly through the iron-grey sky. The red sun burned like a cinder above them, tingeing their spirit guide with a faint, bloody gleam. As miles of uncharted wilderness streaked by below them, Kagome’s sense of foreboding intensified. Judging by the hard set of Kohaku’s jawline, the taijiya in front of her seemed to feel the same.

As the sun crept toward the western horizon, they followed its gradually sinking course. More familiar with these lands, Kohaku leaned forward with narrowed eyes. As they flew low over a forest of dense and ancient pines, a dark spot in the distance snared their attention. Kirara's hackles rose, Kohaku and Kagome tensing at the sight. Even before Kanako’s ghost descended toward it, she knew with a chilling certainty that  _this_  was the place—

The Beast's killing ground.

The miko's breath froze in her lungs as they alighted at last at the edge of the blackened clearing, a thicket of dark twisted branches barring their way. Levitating above the rocky ground before them, the red-hued specter pivoted slowly, its gauzy approximation of an arm pointing ominously toward the heart of the shadowed grove. Shutting her eyes, Kagome steepled her shaking fingers together before her.

“Thank you, Kanako,” she whispered. “Go in peace.”

The spirit’s arm fell, a breezy sigh ruffling through the miko’s hair and sleeves as the victim’s ghost dissipated in a cloud of glimmering mist. Steeling herself, Kagome glanced toward the others as she stepped forward, into the looming shadows.

Scorched limbs creaked as she pushed past them, a few smaller branches crumbling to ash at her feet. Senses attuned, Kagome led the way into the clearing’s blasted center. Like the trees that surrounded it, the space within was seared black as pitch, the loose sandy soil fused into sheets of brittle obsidian. Beneath the soles of Kagome’s sandals, the dark surface cracked and split, as though the earth itself were seeking release from its bitter defilement.

“A demonic fire raged here,” Kohaku remarked from his crouched position behind her, trailing a gloved finger through the fine layer of soot that filmed the glassy ground. “I’ve seen blazes like this before, but never one so well-contained.” Gravely, he met Kagome’s gaze. “Only a youkai of considerable strength and skill could have commanded his youki with such devastating precision.”

The miko crossed her arms over her chest, her brow furrowing in consternation. 'Strength' she could believe, but 'precision’ didn’t fit with the profile of an otherwise savage killer...

“Kanako’s body wasn’t burned,” she muttered, pacing ahead as her eyes swept over the wasted ground. “Which means...”

“He came back here,” the taijiya surmised grimly as he stood and joined Kagome near the middle of the clearing. “After he disposed of her corpse.” Staring at the ground as well, Kohaku shook his head, the long dark tail of his hair swaying at the motion. “But why return to erase the evidence? A demon this powerful doesn't fear retaliation—especially from mortals. So why is he so concerned with covering up an attack against a mere human girl?”

“...I don’t know,” Kagome admitted in frustration, her fists clenching at her sides.

It was baffling, exasperating beyond words. Circling around, she scanned the clearing in desperation, a sharp glare of white catching her eye at last. Wandering dreamlike toward it, she raised her hand as she spoke.

“It’s almost as if...” Pale grooves slashed deeply through the charred trunk of a tree. Settling her fingers lightly into them, she turned to Kohaku with a frown. “...As if he’s ashamed.”

"Ashamed..." Kohaku echoed in contemplation, the blasted ground crunching beneath his boots as he stepped up beside her. "It would also explain why he took the trouble to return Kanako's body so close to her home village." Eyeing the claw marks laid into the blackened tree a moment longer, he turned to Kagome. "Let's see what else we can find."

The three of them fanned out into the surrounding wilderness. For the rest of the afternoon they searched, yet once again there was no material evidence of the killer to be found. No traces of youki which triggered Kagome's spiritual instincts, no tracks by sight or by scent which alerted Kohaku's or Kirara's. Like Kanako's phantom, it was as if the Beast had simply vanished into the ether.

Kagome could only wonder at what Inuyasha, with his superior senses, might have uncovered if he were here—or Sesshoumaru, for that matter...assuming she could have even counted on her brother-in-law's cooperation. Shoving her sweaty bangs out of her eyes in aggravation, Kagome finally forced herself to stop with the pointless musing and turn back.

Exhausted and empty-handed, she reconvened with the others in the scorched grove. By now, the sun was truly beginning to set. With less than an hour before full dark, they needed to make camp—and quickly.

Summoning her reiki around her, Kagome sighed. "I should purify this place, before we leave."

To lift the curse from the land, to ensure that it wouldn't remain a barren, suffering scar upon the earth—this was the least Kagome could do, for Kanako's sake. As the ground beneath her feet began to clear, the power of her purification spreading rosily outward, Kohaku placed a halting hand on her shoulder.

"Just a moment, Kagome-san—I have an idea."

Blinking, the miko recalled her power as the taijiya knelt down above the hard, shiny earth. Uncapping and upending a tiny bottle at his hip, he sprinkled two drops of clear liquid onto the defiled ground. At once, the black slate began to sizzle, dissolving into a dark powder which Kohaku scraped carefully into an empty vial, etched with a briefly glowing sutra.

"Saint's tears react with the lingering curse," he explained as Kagome tilted her head in question. "And the warding spell contains it. If the demon who set this place aflame were to draw near, the contents of this flask would resonate with his youki."

"Kohaku-kun..." Kagome said, a smile blooming across her face as her eyes flicked from the youkai detection charm to its bearer. "That's amazing!"

Flushing, the young man looked aside as he secured the enchanted vial to his belt. "...It's not much on its own, but maybe it'll prove useful in the future."

"Well, it's more than Inuyasha and I ever managed to collect," she said to him sincerely, the lambent glow of her reiki enfolding her once more. "Thank you."

Meeting her gaze, Kohaku smiled back.

After ridding the grove of its curse, Kagome led them toward a stream she'd found during her earlier scouting efforts. While Kohaku built a fire and Kirara fished for dinner, Kagome decided to take a quick bath—more for the routine of it than anything.

As the rush of icy water froze her to the bone, she could feel the grimness of the day being stripped away by the cleansing current. Shivering, she hugged her arms over her breasts and dipped fully below the surface—the chill that met her when she rose again having nothing at all to do with the frigid temperature of the stream.

Though there was no demonic aura she could detect, Kagome felt low in her spine that she was being watched. Her bare skin prickled as she waded cautiously toward the bank. Casting a protective barrier around her, she slipped on her clothes and took up her bow and quiver. Even with such a strong shield in place, she couldn’t help but keep glancing over her shoulder, into the shadowed woods behind her, as she made her way back to camp.

Sensing the magic of Kagome's approaching barrier, Kirara rose from her curled position with an inquisitive mew. Beside her before the fire, Kohaku glanced up at the miko as she stepped into view, dropping her own small radiant shield and recasting a larger version around their entire campsite.

"There's a predator nearby," she said as she sat down at the taijiya's other side. "It's probably just a wolf or a bear, but better to be safe than sorry."

Kohaku nodded absently as Kagome sifted through her long, damp tresses. The spot over her collar where her hair had been resting had been soaked clean through, the curve of her breast showing through the clingy, transparent fabric of her haori. Catching Kohaku's gaze lingering there, Kagome arched a critical brow, the taijiya reddening as he tore his eyes away.

"...I'll go look for some more firewood," he announced brusquely as he stood, trudging off into the trees.

Exchanging a significant glance with Kirara, Kagome tended to the roasting fish in his stead. As tough and composed as Kohaku endeavored to be, he was still just a teenager, at the mercy of his raging male hormones. While she'd felt compelled to check him on it, Kagome couldn't help but feel a little flattered at the attention. How long had it been, since a man had openly admired her body?

Checking  _herself_ , the miko shook her head and focused on cooking dinner.

By the time Kohaku returned with an armful of branches, his cool slayer persona was back in place, and the fish was ready to eat. With Kagome's barrier still faintly glowing around them, the three weary travelers said their goodnights not long after and settled down for sleep.

As Kagome drifted off at last, her restless mind continued to wander, down the twisted byways of dream and memory.

_Two figures appeared on a faraway hill, their shadowy forms gathering substance as she slowly approached._

_"_ No _, Inuyasha."_

_The hanyou flattened his ears. "Look, I'll admit your nose is sharper than mine, okay? I just need to know if you smell anything suspicious that I might've missed."_

_As Sesshoumaru continued to stare out over the formless distance, Inuyasha bared his fangs with a glare. "The dead keep piling up, and you got nothing to say? I'm only asking you, as my brother, to—"_

_"I said, no."_

_"You bastard..." Inuyasha growled, wrenching the daiyoukai around by the shoulder. "The least you could do is say it to my face!"_

_Golden eyes cut sharply to him, narrowing. Kagome's stomach sank in dread, her legs straining to make the seemingly endless climb._

_"Inuyasha!" she exclaimed as she reached them at last, Sesshoumaru's gaze sliding to her instead._

_Following it, her husband roughly released his hold, shouldering her behind him. "Forget it," he muttered fiercely as he steered her around. "Let's go, Kagome..."_

_Down the hill, the night grass gave way to an evergreen forest. Drawing her closer, Inuyasha rested his right hand on the hilt of his sword._

_"...What the hell is this place?" he asked through gritted fangs, as the gnarled pines groaned and swayed around them._

_A pattering sound fell ahead of them, like rain. As they walked on, scarlet droplets pitted their hair and clothes, Kagome's eyes lifting skyward in horror. Arrayed in the branches above them, a multitude of pale, butchered corpses hung, their watery blood dripping down,_ down _, toward a thicket of total, inky darkness._

_"The killing ground," she breathed._

_Cursing, Inuyasha released her as he drew Tessaiga, staring on in anguished fury. "_ Proof _," he seethed as he leapt forward, slashing his sword punishingly through the tangled, blackened branches. "I need_ proof _, goddammit!"_

_"Wait!" Kagome cried as she sprinted after him. "Inuyasha, don't leave me—don't leave me!"_

_The wet crumbling ground gave way beneath her feet, and Kagome was sliding, careening helplessly into the heart of the abyssal grove. Blood splashed around her as she landed alone in the gory pool at the center. Screaming, she tried to rise, only to slip back down into the mire again and again—as a pair of virulent crimson eyes fixed upon her through the shadows..._

"...Inuyasha!" she gasped desperately, tears spilling from her eyes. " _Inuyasha!_ "

"Kagome-san! Kagome-san, wake up!"

She was shaking—someone was shaking her. Blearily, she looked up—even the moonlight seeming far too bright to her eyes. Slowly, painfully, Kohaku's pale face materialized above her, his features etched with concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he helped draw her into a sitting position, Kirara's soft purring muzzle nudging into her side.

Swiping a sleeve across her face, Kagome nodded stiffly, her raw eyes falling to the last glowing embers of the fire.

"It was only a nightmare," she said.


	5. Wishful Thinking

**\- Wishful Thinking -**

But the nightmares didn't stop.

Even after returning to Edo village, visions of the blackened grove and its phantoms continued to haunt Kagome’s dreams. Each night, more horrors of the past re-emerged, rising corpse-like from the depths of her consciousness to linger floating at the surface. Silver hair tangled with dark twisting branches, demon blood swirling with human across the ashes of the killing ground. Within Kagome's slumbering mind, the past and the present coalesced, merging together in a hellish landscape of blood and terror and despair.

As the days, and then the weeks, trickled by without the detection charm being triggered, Kagome's desperation grew to a fever-pitch. While the Beast sometimes struck more often, monthly attacks were a minimum. She had vowed to herself that no more girls would die—she had  _vowed_. Brutal reality clashed with the delusions of her insomnia. Every time Kohaku frowned and shook his head upon returning to the village, she was sobered and inflamed in equal measure.

No matter how much land the taijiya scoured, what were the odds that he would encounter the killer in close range? Rationally, Kagome knew the chance was slim to none. Irrationally, she clung to the hope the charm presented with fervent conviction. Finally, after so much heartache, after being empty-handed for so long, the gods had given her this opportunity. How could it come to nothing?

Exhausted, depleted physically and emotionally, Kagome could only pray that Kohaku's current expedition would be fruitful. In the meantime, she continued to put herself doggedly through the paces. She saw to the villagers in need. She exorcised malicious demons. She assisted the aging Kaede with her duties. She worked to strengthen her spiritual skills and instructed Rin in harnessing her own.

At home, she cooked and cleaned and gardened. As the day grew late at the end of the third week, she was hurrying to finish harvesting a row of medicinal roots when her small trowel deflected against a rock buried in the dirt and cut a bloody gash through the side of her hand. Cursing, Kagome leapt to her feet, hurling the shovel into the woods, kicking over her basket of herbs, and trampling the poor plants into the dirt. Raw-eyed and panting, she raked her grimy hands over face, her nails scratching bloody tracks down her cheeks as she screamed in fatigue and frustration and sheer, helpless rage.

Her shoulders shook with impotent sobs, her jaw locked tight in unspeakable fury. As she surveyed the destruction of her garden, a flash of white appeared out of the corner of her eye. Slowly, she turned toward Inuyasha's forest, her filthy face burning with humiliation.

"Sesshoumaru," she greeted with what dignity she had left, wincing as she dashed a sleeve over her dirty stinging skin in vain. "Haven't seen you around in a while."

"I have been abroad," he returned evenly, stepping closer as she circled around the garden's gate to rest against the fence. "Was your trip to the North a success?"

Digging her nails into the weathered wood behind her, Kagome glanced bitterly away. "I don't think anything will come of it."

Sesshoumaru drew to a stop before her, her eyes returning to him as he grasped her lightly by the chin. Dipping the trailing end of his sleeve into a pail of water perched on the fence-post, he pressed the swathe of wet silk to her face, blotting away the dirt that clung to her skin. Kagome's eyes widened, her breath hitching as he leaned in and trailed his tongue along the shallow scratches in her cheeks.

His saliva numbed her skin like an antiseptic. Prying her equally numb fingers from the beam of the fence, he cleaned them off with his sleeve as well before pressing his open mouth to her wounded hand. Kagome shivered at the damp heat of his breath, at the meticulous grating of his tongue as he sealed over her broken flesh.

Parting at last from her, he met her baffled, apprehensive look with calm detachment. “The scent of your blood is distracting.”

Flustered, Kagome continued to stare, the delirium of her prolonged sleep deprivation raising strange, lurid thoughts to her mind. Vaguely, she wondered if the blood between her legs was a similar distraction to him, and how he would go about tending to  _that_.

His thin pupils contracted further, Kagome’s gaze focusing along with his. “Why did you injure yourself?”

“I...” Kagome began haltingly, her first instinct being to deny the truth. Swallowing, she confessed it instead. “I was upset.”

“That is no excuse,” he said, the bite in his voice making her flinch. “There  _is_  no excuse.”

Admonished, she lowered her head. “You’re right.”

As difficult as it was to withstand his cutting disapproval, she understood why he was so harsh with her. It had been more than a year since she’d sincerely attempted to harm herself, but she could still remember how the flames of the funeral pyre had licked at the sky and how his steely grip on her arm had been the only thing preventing her from pitching herself into them.  _Inuyasha died to protect you_ , he’d reminded her ruthlessly afterward as she’d cried until her throat gave out.  _Is this how you would repay him?_

In the weeks that had followed, he had scarcely left her alone for a moment—checking her with a swift word or glance whenever she’d stayed too long in bed or attempted to skip a meal, whenever she’d stared too intently at the edge of a knife or the melt-swollen current of a stream. She’d resented him fiercely for it— _hated_  him, almost—but as the days had dragged on, as the dark chasm of her desolation had faded little by little into the distance, she had felt her feelings of respect for him return with grudging reverence, along with her determination to hunt down the Beast who was truly to blame for it all.

Yet distant as it was, the pit of her grief still remained, lurking in the back of her mind, sending up cold, deathly drafts to remind her of its presence. How tempting it was, to retrace her steps to that brittle edge, to give herself over the gravitational pull of its depths. Kagome shuddered even now at the chill.

“Sometimes...sometimes I just feel so much,” she whispered, meeting her brother-in-law’s measured look. “It’s overwhelming, these emotions that come over me. Sometimes, I feel like if I don’t get them out of me somehow, they’ll eat me alive.”

“Then you must find a way to manage these feelings,” he said, holding her gaze intently, “without destroying what is vital.”

“I wish I had your self-control," Kagome said, crooking a fragile smile. "Then it would be easy.” Dropping her gaze to her cleaned, clasped hands, she sighed. “I know you don't like to talk about this, but it’s just the lack of closure that takes a toll on me. I got my hopes up this time that we finally had a way of catching that awful killer, but now it seems just as unlikely as it's ever been.”

“Perhaps it is time then," Sesshoumaru said lowly, "for you to let go of this vendetta.”

"Let go of it?" Kagome glanced up at him sharply, frowning. “What else do I  _have_ , apart from this?”

Sesshoumaru’s expression hardened, her stomach sinking at the sight. As he turned on his heel to walk away, she reached out, taking him by the hand. Pausing, he glanced back.

“Please,” she said thickly, straightening from the fence. “With your knowledge and abilities, I’m sure there’s a way. So please, Sesshoumaru—please help me put an end to this monster, once and for all.”

Cool, stony claws slid away from her fingers, curling into a fist as he resumed his departure. Kagome looked after him in crushing disappointment, his reply lingering in the growing space between them.

“I cannot.”

That night, for the first time in weeks, Kagome's sleep was dreamless.

Groggy and stiff, she awoke the next morning with a refreshing clarity of mind. While she would never stop hunting the Beast, her brother-in-law had been right in one sense—she couldn’t let herself be driven to destruction in the attempt. She needed to remain sharp and focused for when the next opportunity arose to catch the killer.

Maybe Kohaku would return with promising news in a week’s time—maybe he’d find nothing. Regardless, Kagome resolved to keep herself healthy and productive. This outlook in mind, she devoted herself to her miko duties with renewed energy.

Checking the consistency of the healing salve with a wooden spoon, Kagome smiled in approval. “Good job, Rin-chan—this looks perfect.”

“Thanks, Kagome-chan." The young woman beamed, tucking back a few wisps of chocolate-brown hair that had escaped from her loose braid. “I feel exhausted though—is that normal? It didn't seem like I used all that much of my reiki...”

“It isn’t always about how  _much_  you use. The more precisely you have to wield your reiki, the more draining it’ll be, and infusing the salve requires precision," Kagome explained. "With practice though, you’ll be able to utilize your power more efficiently, and you won’t feel so tired in the future.”

Rin nodded in understanding, rocking up onto her toes. “I see! Well, I’ll just have to train even harder, then.”

Kagome laughed as she took the simmering pot off the fire. “Just don’t push yourself  _too_  hard, okay? You’re doing great.”

" _Oh_ ," her apprentice sighed happily, her dark eyes glittering as she clasped her hands, “I can’t wait to tell Sesshoumaru-sama all the things I’ve learned! It seems like he’s been gone for ages.”

Setting the pot down to cool, Kagome frowned. “...You didn’t see him yesterday?”

Rin shook her head. “No—was he here?”

“Not for long, I guess,” Kagome answered, her frown deepening as she faced her apprentice. “I’m sorry, Rin-chan—I think I may have angered him. We spoke briefly, and it seems that afterward he left the village altogether.”

To her surprise, Rin smiled. “If Sesshoumaru-sama was  _angry_ , Kagome-chan, you would know.”

“Ha, I suppose you’re right," Kagome conceded lightly. "Well,  _annoyed him_ , then.”

“That’s more likely,” Sesshoumaru’s ward giggled. “He  _does_  get annoyed pretty easily. Even when I was a little girl, Sesshoumaru-sama would become cross with me and leave me by myself for days on end.” At Kagome’s scandalized look, Rin added quickly, “Never anywhere dangerous, of course! Anyway...I never doubted he would come back—I  _knew_  he cared for me.”

“He certainly has a strange way of showing it,” Kagome muttered.

“Well, he  _is_  a demon, after all,” Rin said with a grin. “Although, I think, even for a demon, Sesshoumaru-sama has a hard time expressing his emotions, at least in a way us humans can understand.”

 _He doesn’t think like we do_ , Inuyasha had once told her. Kagome had taken her husband's remark as a warning, and in light of Rin’s words, she found herself considering it anew. Sesshoumaru had always been nearly impossible for her to read. She had assumed this was intentional on his part, but what if it wasn’t? Somehow, the prospect was more unsettling still.

“How were you so sure,” she asked Rin after a moment, “that he cared for you, back then?”

“An intuition,” the younger miko answered at once, tilting her head as she regarded her mentor. “...Don’t you feel it, too?”

The memory of his tongue sliding over her skin rose unbidden in Kagome’s mind. She knew Sesshoumaru felt a sense of familial loyalty to her, but the idea of him caring for her beyond that wasn’t something she wanted to contemplate too deeply.

Lips thinning, Kagome turned away, busying herself with decanting the thickening salve. “...We should get this over to Kaede-baa-chan before dark.”

Before Kohaku had left for the far North, he and Miroku had slain a salamander youkai whose noxious slime had been slowly poisoning the residents of the castle that lay above the demon's subterranean lair. While the most dire of the victims' symptoms had abated shortly after the demon's death, many of the afflicted men and women still bore youki-laced fleshwounds, which would fester and kill them if not properly purified and treated. Tomorrow morning, Kaede, who had tended to the daimyo's sick daughter once before, and Rin would set out to administer the cure she had enlisted Kagome's help in making.

But as the younger mikos took the healing salve to their elder's home, it quickly became clear that Kaede wouldn't be making the trip.

"Threw my back out chasing crows from yon garden," the old woman groused from her futon as soon as Kagome and Rin entered the dwelling. "Mayhaps I'll be up tomorrow, mayhaps not."

"Either way, you need to take it easy for a few days," Kagome decided. "Rin'll stay with you to help out around the village. I'll go to the castle and see to the sick people myself."

Kaede and Rin shared an uncertain glance.

"...Are ye sure?" the elderly miko asked. "Ye cannot make the trip in one day."

"I know," Kagome said with a determined nod, "and I'm sure."

The western castle was a fair distance away. She understood Kaede and Rin's reservations, but it wasn’t fair for them to continue to cater to Kagome’s reclusive tendencies. Traveling with Kohaku had eased some of her anxiety about leaving the region. She could either backslide into isolation or take advantage of the positive momentum and start pulling her true weight again as a priestess.

“Maybe Miroku-sama could go with you?” Rin suggested.

Kagome considered this, then shook her head. “He only just got back. It wouldn’t be fair to Sango-chan and the kids—besides, with me and Kohaku-kun gone, I think it’s best if he’s here to help protect the village.”

“Take Jiro then, at least,” Kaede urged. “On horseback, ye can make the trip in half a day.”

Smiling slightly, Kagome rose with the jar of salve. “Thanks, Baa-chan—I will.”

After saying goodnight, she returned to her home to prepare for tomorrow's journey. Venturing into the Western Lands put her odds of encountering her brother-in-law very high—and he wouldn’t be at all pleased to find her there without his prior knowledge and consent. If Sesshoumaru had his way, Kagome reflected sourly as she stowed a few more supplies into her satchel, he’d put a cage around Edo village.

But there was nothing for it—she would only be gone for a day or two. If she rationed her reiki carefully, she could probably keep herself concealed for the duration of the trip and avoid a confrontation with him altogether.

What Sesshoumaru didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Reassured by the thought, Kagome lay down to sleep.

Early the next morning, shouldering her weapons and satchel, she left her home and made the short trek over to Kaede’s hut to borrow her horse for the journey ahead. Onyx eyes regarded her steadily as she approached the backyard paddock. Like his owner, Jiro was an aged yet sturdy creature—and a little on the cantankerous side. After a brief flattening of his brown ears, Kagome was able to placate him with a peace offering of an apple. Appeased by the tasty snack, he allowed her to fit him with his bridle and saddle, and a few minutes later, the two of them were cantering off toward the west.

As the dirt road took them out of town, Kagome activated her concealment spell. While the enchantment would have no effect on humans, to demons it would appear as if Jiro were traveling down the road alone. Kagome’s reiki, sound, scent, and form would all be rendered perfectly invisible to youkai senses—at least, that was the idea. Passing by a flock of demon crows roosting in a tree at the crossroads, Kagome held her breath in anticipation. Yet not a single feather rustled or beady yellow eye turned toward her in hostility.

Even the more powerful youkai—benevolent or otherwise—which she detected along the way paid her no heed whatsoever. As the hours ticked by without lightning splitting the sky or Sesshoumaru appearing before her in some equally abrupt and angry way, Kagome allowed herself to relax. Not long after noon, she arrived entirely without incident at the broad, forested road leading to Tatsumi castle. Jiro’s hooves clacked almost merrily as the dirt gave way to paving stones, a low-roofed sprawling palace and its outlying township rising in the distance.

Seeing her clothed in the traditional miko attire, the guards at the gate waved Kagome through at once. After handing Kaede’s horse over to a stable boy, she was greeted by a tall, wizened samurai who led her to the main building of the palace, where she was received by the daimyo himself. A sharp-eyed, sallow-faced man, Tatsumi Koshirou regarded her from his elevated seat cushion with a distrustful frown.

"I was expecting Kaede-sama," he said without preamble as she entered the audience chamber. "Who are you?"

"My name is Kagome," the miko said, bowing respectfully. "I'm the head priestess of Edo village. Kaede is unwell, so I've come here in her place."

"'Head priestess,' you say," Tatsumi echoed narrowly. "You seem awfully young to hold such a title."

Kagome smiled. "I could say the same about you, Tatsumi-sama. Yet here we are."

"Indeed," he said, returning the gesture after a moment's consideration. "Here we are." The lord glanced toward one of the screen doors behind him. " _Mayuri_."

The shouji screen slid open, a pretty servant woman about Kagome's age stepping through and approaching Tatsumi with a bow. "Yes, my lord?"

"Show Kagome-sama to her room. No doubt she is weary from her travels and could use a respite."

"Hai, Tatsumi-sama." Mayuri bowed briefly again before turning to the miko with a pleasant smile. "This way, my lady."

Kagome followed the servant back out into the courtyard. A rustic fortress, Tatsumi castle was bordered all around by boulders and towering hardwood trees—a few of which decorated the castle's grounds still. A couple of pure white chickens scattered before Mayuri's brisk advance, a pair of loose oxen looking up indolently from the bale of hay they were munching on in a corner yard. As the servant led Kagome around toward one of the one of the palace's rear buildings, she spoke freely about the recent youkai attack.

"It was terrible—still is," Mayuri said, shaking her head sadly. "So many lying sick with lesions, unable even to sleep from the pain. Houshi-sama and taijiya-sama told us that the monster intended to dissolve us slowly with its toxin and then venture up later to suck our flesh from our bones."

"That's horrible," Kagome muttered, her brow wrinkling in disgust. "...But you seem well, Mayuri-san?"

The servant nodded. "When our neighbors fell ill, my husband began to suspect that the water in our well was contaminated. From then on, we drank only rainwater, instead."

"I see...so the demon was poisoning the water from the ground up. That's how he was spreading his curse. No wonder so many were struck by it."

"Yes—even the little children," Mayuri said, glancing somberly back at the priestess. "Tell me, Miko-sama, how could any creature be so wicked and the gods still allow it to draw breath?"

Kagome looked up to the cloudy sky. "I wish I knew."


	6. Keep the Secret

**- Keep the Secret -**

Ascending the steps of a wide veranda, the two women drew to a stop before one of the palace's outer doors. Mayuri bent low at the waist, the ends of her loosely bound hair nearly brushing the floorboards.

"Let me know if there is anything at all that you need."

"Thank you, I—”

" _Kaa-san!_ "

Both women turned in surprise as a small, blue-clad figure raced up the porch steps and tackled Mayuri at the waist. Laughing a little, the servant gently prised the young boy's arms from around her.

"Yahiko," she scolded lightly, "what have I told you about running on the palace grounds?"

"Not to," the boy replied with a sheepish blush, the color deepening as he hazarded a glance at Kagome. "But, Kaa-san, look—I had to show you what Tou-san made for me!"

From his pocket, Yahiko withdrew a wooden carving of a samurai, his caramel eyes meeting his mother's in barely-contained excitement. "Isn't it great?"

"It certainly is," Mayuri said warmly, brushing a lock of his dark hair back behind his ear. "Go tell your father I think so." As the boy started to take off again, she called after him, " _Slowly!_ "

Yahiko slowed to a walk before taking the steps down two at a time. The moment he passed through the palace gates, he broke out into a full sprint again. Watching after him, Kagome didn't even realize she was frowning until Mayuri turned toward her with a hesitant smile.

"Gomen, Kagome-sama—Yahiko is a sweet boy, but sometimes he forgets his manners."

"No need to apologize," Kagome said, smiling back. "How old is he?"

"Four, my lady—almost five."

The miko nodded, her heart weighing heavy in her chest as she laid a hand on the door of her room. "...I think I will rest for just a bit."

"Of course," Mayuri said with a parting bow.

The room Lord Tatsumi had appointed for Kagome’s stay had the same rustic elegance as the rest of the palace. A bed of coals glowed brightly in the central iron brazier, interlocking planks of rich, polished oak lining the floor beneath it. Setting her belongings down next to the crisp white futon in one corner, Kagome collapsed onto the low bench beside it.

Her head fell back against the wall behind her, a soft sigh leaving her lips as she thought of Mayuri’s son, Yahiko.  _Four years old_...had she and Inuyasha had a child of their own, he or she would have been about the same age by now. At the start of their marriage, before the Beast had surfaced and driven his thoughts away from such things, Inuyasha had longed for a child. It was Kagome who had wanted to wait, and now...

Now there was no one—no one to carry on her husband’s blood and legacy. No one to carry his sword. There was only Sesshoumaru, yet even when Kagome had offered him Tessaiga, he had bluntly refused it.

_It is not for me to wield_ , he had said, and when Kagome had argued if not him then who, he had replied, to her profound displeasure,  _My heir, perhaps._

The thought of some  _stranger_ —some arrogant, entitled demon princeling—who had never known or cared anything for Inuyasha wielding his precious sword was more than Kagome’s heart could bear. Even now, the recollection filled her with jaw-clenching bitterness. She'd destroy Tessaiga  _herself_  before she let such a travesty come to pass.

Shaking her head to dispel the dark melancholy that had descended over her, Kagome rose from the bench and set about seeing to the sick in need. She spent the rest of the afternoon and a good chunk of the evening visiting the homes of the afflicted with Mayuri and applying the healing salve to their wounds.

Upon contact, the lingering youki was dispelled, along with any infection, and the open sores were sealed. For all of the victims, relief was immediate, and most would be up and about again after a few days’ rest. But to help speed the recovery process along, especially for those who had suffered more severely, Kagome decided to extend her stay a day longer and concoct a restorative to supplement their bodies’ healing efforts. This aim in mind, she went the next morning to the lord of the castle to ask for the necessary supplies.

“Our stores are at your disposal, Kagome-sama,” Tatsumi replied graciously. “Take whatever you need.”

Fortunately, most of the ingredients for the restorative draught were fairly common. Scouring the castle’s pantries with Mayuri’s assistance, Kagome was able to collect all but one.

“Fire moss,” she mumbled. “That’s going to be tricky this time of year...”

“Is that a reddish moss that grows out in a spiked pattern?” Mayuri ventured. “If so, I know where we can still find some.”

“Really?” Kagome asked, brightening.

Mayuri nodded. “Follow me.”

Outside, the servant led them behind the palace kitchens, over to the high, thick-timbered fence surrounding the castle’s perimeter. Darting a swift glance around, Mayuri pulled back a curtain of vines to reveal a gap in the fencing—just large enough for a single person to squeeze through.

“A shortcut into the woods,” the servant whispered with a mischievous smile. “Yahiko showed me this—only after I swore to ‘absolute silence.’”

Kagome snickered. “Don’t worry, Mayuri-san, your secret’s safe with me.”

As the two women slipped through the fence and descended the leaf-strewn slope into the surrounding forest, they continued the game of ‘keep the secret’—each trying to make the other crack as they exchanged increasingly ridiculous expressions while motioning not to speak. Smothering her giggles behind her hand, Kagome felt lighter than she had in years. Here she was, out in the world again—helping others, making new friends, and exploring undiscovered places.

It felt good. It felt  _right_.

About a mile in, the two women drew to a stop before a series of small shallow caverns pocketing the tree-covered hillside, the caves’ interiors cool enough so that a few sparse patches of the red winter moss remained. Baskets in hand, Kagome and Mayuri split up to collect it. Plucking the last scarlet clump from the granite wall before her, the miko turned back to meet up with her companion. As she rounded the hillside, she could have sworn she heard a strange rustle in the branches ahead, but as she pushed past the tall underbrush into the clearing, Mayuri was alone.

With a wink, the servant lifted her brimming basket as if to say,  _Ready?_

Kagome grinned in reply:  _Game on._

'Keep the secret' resumed with a vengeance, Kagome and Mayuri raising the stakes absurdly higher with each successive round. By the time they squeezed back through the fence, both women were in mute, red-faced hysterics. The moment the vines swung shut behind them, they doubled-over, laughing themselves hoarse.

“We did it,” Kagome gasped, clutching her stomach. “We kept our silence.”

“Not a word passed our lips,” Mayuri agreed, dashing mirthful tears from the corners of her eyes. "My husband would  _never_  believe I could hold my tongue for so long."

The miko laughed again, because sure enough Mayuri was about as chatty as they came. As the two conspirators returned to the castle kitchens and began their work on the healing potion, the servant had Kagome beside herself time and again with a seemingly endless supply of stories—wholesome and otherwise—about the residents of Tatsumi castle.

"...And so she cracked her rival's skull open with the frying pan and then went right back to cooking supper with it!"

"You're kidding!" Kagome exclaimed, one of the cooks across the kitchen throwing the servant a dirty look.

"That’s what they say," Mayuri maintained, nonplussed, as she continued to stir the literal pot. "Of course, the  _official_  story is that Taka-san fell and hit her head. But I don't believe it for a second—everyone  _knows_  Koharu-san had it out for her. And if everyone knows it, I don't see why I shouldn't say it."

Outspoken women were rare in feudal times, but Mayuri expressed her opinions boldly and without reservation. As the hours passed, she and Kagome bantered back and forth like old friends. Even though she had only known Mayuri for a little over a day, Kagome felt a distinct kinship with her. Maybe it was their closeness in age or the fact that they both had aberrant dispositions for the era—maybe it was even the latent spiritual powers Kagome sensed that Mayuri possessed—but whatever it was, she wasn't alone in her sentiments.

" _Must_  you leave tomorrow, Kagome-sama?" Mayuri sighed as they bottled up the finished potion. "You're like a breath of fresh air in this backwater place."

"'Fresh air', huh? That might be the nicest thing anybody's ever said about me," Kagome quipped, shooting her a smile. "But I do have to leave. I was wondering though, if you might want to come with me?"

"Come with you?" Mayuri blinked.

“I think with some training you'd make an excellent priestess,” the miko stated, setting her hands on her hips. “If your husband is okay with it, you could spend a few weeks in Edo with me, and I could teach you some useful things to start. You've certainly got the potential, and I'm sure Tastumi-sama would approve of having a full-time miko around."

"A miko?—Me?" the servant said wonderingly. "But...I thought only maidens could be mikos?"

Kagome snorted. "If that were the case, I'd have been out of a job a long time ago. I was married once myself."

"Oh," Mayuri said, frowning slightly. "I didn't know."

Crossing her arms, Kagome glanced aside. "...My husband passed away, a few years back."

"I'm sorry to hear it." Mayuri's frown deepened. "How, may I ask?"

"He was killed," Kagome answered tightly, "by a demon." Turning back, she relaxed her expression. "So, what do you say?"

"Kagome-sama," Mayuri replied, setting down the bottle in her hands to clasp Kagome's own, "I'd be thrilled to go with you! If it's just for a few weeks now and then, I'm sure my husband wouldn't mind."

"Then we'll leave together at dawn." The miko smiled. "And just call me 'Kagome', okay?"

Mayuri smiled back. Gathering up the restorative draught, they made their rounds to the recovering victims to deliver the supplement. Upon drinking the potion, which Kagome had amplified with her reiki, a soft glow lit the afflicted's skin, the smallest of their wounds kitting slowly back together before their eyes. Tearful thank-yous and heartfelt praise followed in Kagome and Mayuri's wake. Though it was late in the evening when they finally finished their task, the daimyo insisted on throwing a feast in Kagome's honor.

As she'd expected, Lord Tatsumi had no objection whatsoever to Mayuri's taking a leave of absence to learn the miko arts. He firmly endorsed the notion, even going so far as to make it his royal decree—after he'd had his second round of sake. Refilling his cup, Mayuri flashed Kagome a wry smile from behind his shoulder, the miko raising her own cup to her lips to hide her grin.

As the feast drew to a quiet close, Tatsumi’s shy young daughter vanished and re-appeared at her father's urging with biwa in hand. In her slender fingers a fan-shaped plectrum fluttered over the strings of the lute, its somber, twangy music filling the air. Kagome wasn't familiar with the tune and the story it was telling, but the song spirited her away just the same. Resting her chin in her palm, she lost herself in her own narrative, the haunting, otherworldly melody reminding her vividly of Sesshoumaru.

First impressions, she reflected, were difficult to shake. Her initial, frighteningly hostile confrontations with the Lord of the Western Lands had colored her opinion of him in a deeply negative way. Even all these years and experiences later, it was difficult—had been difficult—for her to view him with anything more than guarded esteem. She conceded that Inuyasha's attitude toward his brother had largely shaped her own, and maybe that was why now, with some distance between herself and all that served as a touchstone for those memories, she could allow herself to see Sesshoumaru in a different light.

How might she think of him, if like Rin she had met him under entirely different circumstances? As the biwa's notes cascaded like falling rain, she imagined a forest in storm and herself wandering through it, a young girl lost and alone in the wilderness, until the pale, ethereal figure of a man appeared before her, shining like a beacon in the dark...

"...It's lovely, isn't it?"

Jolted from her reverie, the miko started at the question. Seated alongside her now that her duties were over, Mayuri slanted her a soft smile.

"Marika-sama's playing," she clarified.

"Very lovely," Kagome agreed, nodding faintly. "For a moment there, I was taken away."

"...Thinking of your husband?" Mayuri prompted, placing her hand over Kagome's.

The miko's fingers tensed, her voice carefully controlled as she asked, "What made you guess so?"

"The dreamy expression on your face," the servant replied, smiling softer still. "I can see that you cared for him dearly."

Guiltily, Kagome looked away. Not only had she scarcely thought of Inuyasha today, here she was entertaining some silly romantic fantasy about his brother...

As Marika finished the song with a blush and a bow, Kagome applauded her performance with a strained smile, bidding goodnight to her, Lord Tatsumi, Mayuri and the rest shortly thereafter. Mentally berating herself the entire way back to her room, she sank like a stone into her futon, the exhaustion from the day's activities—and from sustaining her concealment spell around the clock—thankfully pulling her almost at once into a heavy sleep.

It was late in the night when she awoke—tense and alert at the powerful youki assailing her senses.

Reflexively, she reached for her bow, fitting an arrow to it before she'd even realized that she had. As her mind raced to catch up with her instincts, her eyes widened in recognition—and dread. The thunderous aura that had wrested her from her slumber was unmistakable—

Sesshoumaru had discovered her, at last.


	7. Bump in the Night

**- Bump in the Night -**

The bow slipped from Kagome's fingers, her strung arrow clattering to the floor.

She should have known her spell wouldn’t be strong enough to throw Sesshoumaru off her trail. Maybe he hadn’t been in close enough range until now, or hadn't been paying close enough attention. Maybe she’d let the enchantment slip during her sleep, and he’d detected her. Maybe her concealment spell had held after all, and he’d simply visited Edo in the meantime and learned that she was here.

Whatever the reason, here he was—and judging by the flare of his aura, he wasn’t in a calm state of mind. In a few seconds he’d no doubt be breaking down her door, dragging her back to the village, and it would be a month of Sundays before she stepped one foot outside of Edo again. Kagome sighed in resignation, preparing to end her concealment altogether now that he’d found her out—until those few seconds passed, and she realized he hadn’t moved a single inch toward her.

Kagome’s brow creased, her fingertips drumming on the wooden floor. It wasn’t like Sesshoumaru to tarry—he was all action, swift and purposeful and to the point in everything that he did. So what was the holdup, now?

Something nagged at her instincts, drawing the corners of her lips down into a troubled frown. It was certainly Sesshoumaru’s youki signature she was sensing—but there was something about it that disquieted her. Something about it that was distinctly... _off_.

Rising from her bed, Kagome slung her bow and quiver over her shoulder without a second thought—not even pausing to change out of her sleeping yukata as she slipped on her sandals and stepped out into the night. Although Sesshoumaru’s location still hadn’t changed—he was perhaps a mile away—his aura was flaring even more intensely than before.

Kagome’s heart thudded in anxiety. Was he injured or sick? Was he being threatened by another youkai whose presence was masked to her? As his youki rippled and spiked in the distance, she hastened across the moonlit yard, circling around behind the palace kitchens and lifting away the darkly gleaming vines that hid the secret path into the woods.

Stumbling at first down the leafy slope, Kagome clung to the trees for support as she found her footing, picking her way carefully forward through the dark. Moonlight filtered through the canopy of limbs overhead, painting the ground in brushstrokes of broken silver and lending a ghostly, enchanted quality to the quiet shadowed woods. Holding the skirt of her yukata aloft from the dark grasping fingers of fallen twigs and branches, Kagome tread lightly over the dappled underbrush, her spiritual senses leading her steadily onward, toward the source of Sesshoumaru’s simmering youki.

As she ventured deeper into the wilderness, a low fog blanketed the forest floor. The mist chilled her bare toes, but it was the increasingly strong scintillation of demonic energy that raised the fine hairs at her nape. Kagome’s pulse pounded, her bow slipping in her clammy grip as she crept along through the haze—the sudden fluttering of a owl past her right shoulder making her gasp in fright.

Thankful she’d keep her concealment spell in place after all, she swallowed and continued on. Sesshoumaru’s youki crashed against her in heated waves, emanating from just up ahead. As the trees thinned around the edge of a clearing, the sight that met Kagome’s eyes had her rooted stock-still in shock.

Before her in the clearing was Sesshoumaru—stark naked on his knees, with another pale, bare body bent before his. Clawed hands gripped soft feminine hips, wrenching them back against his half-buried length as he sank forward to the hilt. Watching them move in profile, Kagome clung to the rough trunk of a tree for support.

A woman, she realized dimly, her nails digging into the bark. Sesshoumaru was having sex with a  _human_  woman.

Slowly, dazedly, her eyes traveled down from where his muscled torso met the spread, mounded flesh of his partner—following the deep supplicating curve of her spine, the inky spill of her hair over the moon-bleached backs of her neck and shoulders. Pressed close to the ground, her face was turned away, but Kagome could still hear her muffled moans of rapture as Sesshoumaru thrust into her, her breasts swaying and ass rippling from the force of his impact. Transfixed, the miko sagged against the tree, unable to tear her attention away from the sights and sounds of what her brother-in-law was doing to this woman.

As he increased his pace, the woman's folded arms shifted, her slim fingers curling into the mist-filmed earth for purchase. A choked, guttural cry escaped her as she climaxed in a series of whole-body spasms, Sesshoumaru's youki spiking once again in response. Kagome swallowed dryly at the sensation—so close to her now that she could feel the sear of his aura against her own skin. As the overwrought woman turned toward her at last, the miko could see that she sensed it, too.

Kagome's jaw clenched as caramel eyes looked past her, glazed and shimmering with lust. Dark silky hair puffed away from her friend's full pink lips, her panting breath hitching as Sesshoumaru angled her sharply up toward him. Mayuri's back bowed to the breaking point, her knees skirting the ground. Her mouth fell open in senseless bliss, her eyes squeezing shut as he rammed into her dangling lower half.

" _Yes!_ " Mayuri sobbed, her teeth clashing and voice cracking from the helpless pounding she was receiving at Sesshoumaru's hands. "Yes, my lord! Please, don't stop,  _please_ —"

Sesshoumaru silenced her with a vicious snarl, one set of claws forcing her down by the nape. Whimpering, Mayuri bit into the side of her wrist as Kagome's gaze dragged back to him, lingering for a moment at the heart-shaped birthmark on Mayuri's thigh before climbing slowly up his chiseled abs and chest.

His silver hair hung around him, stringy and askew, sticking in some places where beads of perspiration had trickled down the planes of his muscles. Veins bulged from his pectorals and biceps and throat, his pulse throbbing visibly beneath the marble casing of his skin. But as Kagome's eyes trailed upward still, it was the expression on his face that arrested her most. There was no trace of his usual cool detachment—his facial markings were wide and frayed, his fangs bared and features twisted in pure carnal pleasure. As she continued to stare at him in morbid fascination, his eyes slid open before her—shining with a molten, coppery hue.

Panicked, Kagome fled.

In blind desperation she tore through the forest, sheer adrenaline fueling her as she crashed through the brush and branches that attempted to ensnare her. Her yukata snagged and ripped, her hair and skin as well. As the night wind lashed against her, she raced back toward the castle as fast as her tripping feet would take her.

Her lungs burned, her heart rattling in the cage of her ribs as she scrambled up that final wooded slope. A riot of emotions whirled within her—fear, mortification, anger, even envy—the tumult propelling her onward with frantic, furious force. Bursting through the curtain of vines onto the castle grounds, she veered hard toward her room at the rear of the palace, her back sliding partway down the door frame as she slammed the screen shut behind her.

Still breathing heavily, she peeled herself off from the wall and staggered over to her bed. Her bow and quiver thudded to the floor as she collapsed face-down on top of the futon. Eyes round and staring, fingers twisting into the sheets, she fought to process what she’d just discovered. Had she not witnessed it first hand, she scarcely would have believed it— _Sesshoumaru_ , rutting with a mortal out in the open...

Rutting with  _Mayuri_.

Rolling over onto her back, Kagome pushed her sweaty bangs off her face with a groan. Though her thoughts remained in dizzying uproar, one fact crystallized through the chaos: She had seen something she never should have seen, something she could never  _un_ see. Her roiling head ached at the knowledge, a keen point of tension lancing between her knitted brows. Kneading the spot with the tips of her shaking fingers, Kagome closed her eyes, but the images remained, scorched into her consciousness like a red-hot brand—searing her just as strongly as her brother-in-law's unfettered youki.

Even now, she could feel the swell and surge of his aura—wild and dark and ferocious as a gathering storm, a true force of nature unto itself. Implacable and powerful, his presence bore down on her even from this distance, her miko senses smothered and electrified all at once. Even in the midst of battle, she had  _never_  felt Sesshoumaru come unhinged like this. Knowing now what it meant, a primal shudder ran through her at each sizzling undulation, each jolting current that punctuated the heady ascent of his pleasure.

Senses attuned, Kagome gasped at a particularly sharp spike in his aura, her nipples thrusting up through the thin white cotton of her yukata in response. Strained and twisted, the fabric gaped in places, revealing a swathe of her heaving chest, a stretch of her quivering inner thigh. Seeing herself visibly aroused only inflamed her that much further, her lower lip catching between her teeth, her fingers trailing inexorably down the valley of her breasts. Her legs fell open as she loosed the knot of her obi, a soft moan escaping her at the feeling of her damp, bared sex hitting the air.

Wantonly she writhed beneath Sesshoumaru's thundering youki, her thighs rubbing together at their swollen junction, smearing her wetness between them. Clutching at her breast, Kagome pinched her captive nipple between her knuckles as she let her reel of stolen images play—mixing freely with her remembered sensations and the ones he was unleashing upon her.

His thick cock glistened in her mind's eye, taut pink flesh pulling along the length of his shaft as he drew back against the suction of that tight, slick sheath. A whimper rose in her throat, the first two fingers of her free hand wedging themselves into her own wet passage as she imagined how it must feel to be full of him—as she remembered how it felt to be full of his brother.

Flipping over onto her stomach, she pushed herself up onto her knees, three fingers now buried inside her as she braced herself on her forearm like Mayuri had. A ragged, needy groan broke from her when her hand began to plunge in earnest, her hips rising to present themselves to the empty air behind her. But in her mind, she could feel herself being mounted once more, her body bent in base submission, a maelstrom of youki swirling around her, pulsing in time with her lover's phantom thrusts.

She could see the feral grimace of his pleasure, feel the bite of his claws as he finally began to lose control. Demonic energy blazed like dark flames against her skin, stoking her in scalding, erratic bursts. Mouth dry, Kagome mirrored his savage intensity, slamming her fingers into herself with heated abandon, curling them in toward that spot where the outer curve of his torrid cock would assault her best.

The heel of her hand smacked her clit as hard as his heavy, loaded balls would at the brink. Her toes furled at the punishing pressure, her thighs tensing and breath catching as her inner walls began to shiver and seize. An inferno of youki wreathed around her, roaring higher and higher as his own lust perilously peaked.

Within her, a dam of pure fire was breaking—there was no stopping it. There was no going back. One last spark of that igniting friction, and she was consumed completely. Her vision spotted black as she screamed out into the silence, Sesshoumaru's echoing conflagration raging through her until the abyssal darkness eclipsed her mind at last.


	8. The Cold Light of Day

**- The Cold Light of Day -**

It was well past dawn when Kagome awoke, her eyes crusted and body aching from the cramped position she’d passed out in last night. Lying partway on her stomach, she dragged her pruny fingers out from the sticky seam of her thighs, a grimace pulling at her lips at the sensation. With a groan, she pushed herself to her feet, her stiff spine cracking as she trudged over to the wash basin and started cleaning herself off.

Wincing, she picked out the thorns that studded her dusty flesh, thin bands of scarlet ringing her calves and ankles from the lashing the scrubby forest floor had given her. One corner of a toenail had been ripped bloodily off, a hiss of pain escaping her as she dabbed gingerly at the afflicted area. Even with most of the grime of the evening finally washed away, she still couldn’t shake the dirtiness that clung to her beneath the skin—the patheticness, the lingering shame.

Donning her miko garb like armor, Kagome bound her messy hair high with a stretch of pure white ribbon and gathered up her things to go.

Despite how late in the morning it was, as she approached their agreed-upon meeting place, Mayuri was nowhere to be found. No doubt she was back in her husband's bed still sleeping off the night of wild sex she’d had with Sesshoumaru. Striding white-knuckled across the castle courtyard, the miko decided it was for the best that Mayuri hadn't shown her face. Knowing now what she knew about the woman, Kagome had little desire to spend another second in her company. The fact that the servant had bailed on her was really no surprise—Mayuri was a gossip, a cheater, and a fake friend, and she had only the gods to thank for keeping her far from Kagome’s sight.

Her black mood darkening further, the miko stalked toward the stables, giving the timid young attendant a terse word of thanks as he led Jiro out to her and shakily handed her the reins. The horse’s saddlebags were loaded down with gifts from Lord Tatsumi, and while Kagome had nothing against the daimyo himself, she had more than half a mind to dump the gifts off at the next village she crossed. This whole place had left a bitter taste in her mouth. If she never stepped foot here again it would be too soon.

Swinging up into her saddle, she set Jiro off at a trot. Yet even as the castle faded into the distance, her bitterness remained. Exhausted as she was, Kagome kept her concealment spell firmly in place. Mayuri aside, the last person in the world she wanted to cross paths with right now was Sesshoumaru. She didn't fully trust that she wouldn’t put an arrow in him out of pure spite.

Though she could still hardly wrap her mind around it, Kagome knew what she’d seen. After all the grief he’d given his brother over his relationship with her—even going so far as to  _threaten_  Inuyasha not to marry her, at which point she really  _had_  almost put an arrow in him—there Sesshoumaru was having a fling with some random human woman himself. It was beyond infuriating. Even if Kagome hadn't always liked him, she had at least been able to respect that Sesshoumaru was principled. Now she saw him for the hypocrite he was. Just when she had started to think better of him, just when she had started to think—

Kagome clenched her jaw, forcibly derailing that train of thought. Inuyasha had been right when he’d warned her to keep her distance from Sesshoumaru. Clearly, he wasn’t what he appeared to be.

Huffing angrily, Kagome brushed her tail of sun-soaked, raven hair off her shoulder. As much as she regretted getting caught up in the heat of the moment last night, she was grateful for the reality check it had given her. Better to get a little burned by him now than to get razed to the ground later on. Remembering the slick slide of his tongue over her cheek made her feel presently ill. Narrowly she wondered if he'd just been testing the waters with her that day in the garden—trying to get a feel, perhaps, for whether she’d let him take her out into the woods like Mayuri had...

Kagome shook her head to dispel the disturbing thought. One thing was for certain, though: It would be a cold day in  _all_  seven hells before she let Sesshoumaru touch her like that again.

As the miles passed by, Kagome continued to stew. Lost in an imagined scenario in which she gave her dog of a brother-in-law a  _real_  piece of her mind, she failed to notice the sound of voices hailing her until their owners were nearly upon her.

"Miko-sama!" a young man panted as he skidded to a stop just before her.

"Miko-sama, please—come quickly!" a girl who appeared to be his sister appealed breathlessly from his side.

Drawing Jiro to a halt, Kagome frowned down at the pair in question. Slipping off the horse, she followed the two teenagers over to where a small group of fisherman stood gathered at the river bank.

"Horrible, just horrible," one man muttered, shaking his grizzled head.

Another fisherman nodded somberly in agreement. "Poor lass. To suffer such a fate as this..."

The others nodded as well.

"Ye found her in yon rapids, ye said?" a third man gruffly asked the first.

"Aye, wedged between two stones. No telling, I suppose, from whence she came."

"Jii-san!" the girl leading Kagome called out to the gray-haired man who'd just spoken. "Miko-sama is here."

"Ah," the elder fisherman said, bowing to the priestess as he turned. "Miko-sama, a young woman has been found slain near our village. Can ye tell us—is it the work of a demon?"

As the group of onlookers parted to allow Kagome through, her young female guide rushed ahead of her. Crouching down near the water's edge, the girl took a deep breath as she pulled away the reed mat that covered the dead woman's naked body, the men looking discreetly away from the sight of the washed-out, savaged corpse.

Stepping forward, Kagome felt her blood run cold in her veins. Her fingers seized around Jiro's reins, her pulse pounding in her ears as her eyes moved slowly over the shredded hips, the gouged back and shoulders. Disfigured by death and terror, half-hidden behind a ratty clump of hair, the corpse's features might yet pass for another—but as Kagome circled around in nightmarish dread, as she sank down and pressed her hand to that damp icy flesh, as she rolled the dead woman's body over and let her trembling gaze fall to the outside of that pallid thigh, the proof roared back at her as if from jaws of the Beast himself...

A birthmark, in the shape of a heart.

Kagome reeled, scarcely managing to reach the river's edge before a torrent of scalding bile ripped up through her throat. Her nose seared. Her eyes streamed as she retched out the dregs of her empty stomach into the muddy current below. Frigid brown water soaked through the knees of her hakama, her quaking arms straining to support herself against the deathly chill that seized her.

She could sense the villagers hovering behind her like a host of watchful specters. Dashing the back of her wan, shaking hand against the acid lingering on her lips, Kagome turned her hollow gaze to the ashen-faced girl who knelt beside her.

“...Miko-sama?” the girl hesitantly asked.

“A cart,” Kagome rasped out, gritting her teeth as her eyes strayed back to Mayuri’s festering corpse. “Do you have a cart?”

As two of the fishermen went to fetch one, Kagome scoured her hands raw with the harsh slimy soap the girl had given her. Trying to distract herself from the sight of them loading Mayuri’s body into the ox cart, the miko asked the girl her name. When she learned that it was Kanako, Kagome wished she hadn’t.

As the cart hatch locked shut with grim finality, the miko returned numbly to her mount. Mayuri's corpse in tow, Kanako, her brother and grandfather followed after. Apart from the occasional “Tch-tch,” to keep the aged ox moving, not a word passed between the group of solemn travelers. In this funeral-like procession, Kagome led the small party back to Tatsumi castle.

The fiery sun beat down on the miko's bowed head and sunken shoulders. Before her vacant eyes, the handful of intervening miles seemed to stretch endlessly on. From one hell to the next, the living and the dead journeyed together, cold dismay rising now from the pit of Kagome's stomach as they crossed at last onto the paved palace road. A company of crows eyed them from the grass near the gates, their shiny black gazes sharpening at the sickly sweet stench of decay, their little clawed feet hopping about in macabre delight.

The miko's sudden return was causing a stir in general. Already a crowd of curious townsfolk had gathered, the guards ordering them to keep back as they ushered Kagome and her gloomy entourage into the courtyard. One glance at the burden they were carrying, and Tatsumi's samurai captain led them around to a side building of the palace, where two soldiers helped Kanako's brother and grandfather to unload it.

As a shroud was laid over Mayuri's remains, the lord of the castle arrived there himself. His jaundiced features descended, dragging down like melted tallow as the village elder launched into his grisly account, the sound of his voice fading in and out of Kagome's hearing.

"...Found her this morn in the river, milord...must've washed there in the night...Miko-sama was passing by...said we should bring her here...poor young lass...'tis a demon most like that felled her, though Miko-sama did not say..."

Lord Tatsumi's piercing gaze shifted to her. "...Well, Kagome-sama?" he prompted, as if from far away. "Is this the work of a demon?"

Put once more to that dreadful question, Kagome fixed him with a bleak and haunted stare—as the outer door of the room banged open, and Mayuri's family rushed in.

“ _Kaa-san!_ ” Yahiko cried out at the sight, fighting against a man with silver-streaked hair who attempted to shield him from it. Breaking free of his father’s bloodless hold, the boy raced over to his dead mother’s side, planting his small white hands on the frozen ruin of her face. “Kaa-san...Kaa-san, wake up...Kaa-san... _Kaa-san, please_...”

His shoulders shook with grief and confusion, tears streaming down from eyes so much like Mayuri’s as he continued to entreat her. In his desperation, in his disbelief, Kagome saw an image of herself—stranded once more on that loathsome shore, her fingers digging into Inuyasha’s cooling flesh, as if by force of love alone she could bleed the warmth of life back into him...

“...She said not to expect her, that she would be late returning home,” Mayuri’s husband recounted aloud, shock and horror robbing his voice of its inflection, wresting Kagome back to the present. “...When I awoke and she was not there, I assumed she had stayed overnight here—at the palace. I assumed she...I assumed...I...I...”

As the man broke down altogether, Kagome found herself moving to the door. Walking past the desolate husband, the flinty-eyed lord, the somber fisherman and his grandchildren, the grave samurai, she stepped through the opening in the shouji screen, the sound of Yahiko’s hopeless sobs trailing close behind her.

Outside in the blazing light, Kagome's eyes blinked and burned. Shades of orange overlaid the world around her. A shiver of heat laced the dusty ground, rippled shimmering from the roof peaks and tree tops. Half-blind, Kagome stumbled through the hellish haze, a woman’s scathing voice cutting through it.

“...If you ask  _me_ , Mayuri brought this on herself. She was always spoiling for trouble, flaunting her looks the way she did, running her mouth like she was better than everyone else—the vain little hussy...”

Slowly Kagome turned toward the group of servant women clustered near the castle kitchens. Pale faces blurred in her vision—waxy and distorted, the dark piggish eyes of their ringleader glinting peevishly in the glare.

“... _Consorting_  with demons, some are beginning to say,” the head cook Koharu barreled on, emboldened by the disgusted head shakes of her companions. “Well— _I_  certainly wouldn’t put it past her. There was something  _unnatural_  about that girl. Something devious, something  _wicked_ —”

Kagome didn’t remember crossing the courtyard. She didn’t remember shoving the much larger woman to the ground beneath her. She didn’t remember the first time her reiki-wreathed fist connected with her face. Nor the second.

“ _Shut up!_ ” she heard herself snarl as she struck Koharu again and again, her knuckles splitting open against crooked yellow teeth. “ _Shut your mouth, you liar! You murderer!_ ”

Her vision had gone red, her body was no longer her own. Something else had possessed her—something else was in control. All she could feel was her fury, all she knew was the violence in her heart. She was drunk on it,  _drowning_  in it.

“ _Please!_...please, stop...”

Had  _Mayuri_  pleaded? Had the others? Had they begged and cried as he tore them apart from the inside out? Had he heard it—had he even cared?

Koharu wasn’t pleading anymore. Feeble whimpers rose and died in her throat. As Kagome's fists fell away, the servant's doughy hands lifted to cradle her broken nose, her bloodied lips and cheeks. As the red fog of the miko’s wrath began to fade, she lurched unsteadily to her feet.

Her ears were ringing, her breath sounding terribly loud in the crisp quiet of the courtyard. With sobering, startling clarity she looked around her—at the fearful faces of the other servants, at the wariness of the daimyo’s guards. Staggering the short distance over to the post where Jiro was tied, she freed him quickly and threw herself up into the saddle, galloping hard through the castle gates.


	9. Waking Nightmare

 

****-** Waking Nightmare -**

Bent low over Jiro’s back, Kagome clung to his neck as much as his reins, her lungs striving for air against the crushing weight of her anguish. Her eyes bleared, blood trickling down from her raw, busted knuckles and sealing her clenched fingers shut. The road before her obscured as Jiro raced on at her heels’ stabbing insistence, the howl of the wind past her ears vying with the roar in her mind.

 _Home_. She needed to get home. Everything would be fine if she could just get back to Edo— _Edo_ , where the world was sane, where she could anchor herself back to reality again. The madness of these lands was threatening to undo her, threatening to drag her down into the pit of her despair.

As the last golden rays of sunlight rusted out, Kagome thundered into the village. Frothing at the mouth, Jiro reared as she veered him to a halt outside her house, the aged horse nearly throwing her from him. As Kagome tumbled down from his back, he took off in the direction of Kaede’s hut, tossing his mane in distemper.

Picking herself up from the dirt, the miko trudged past the noren curtain. Inside, everything was exactly the same as she had left it. Wandering across the room, she ran her fingers along the shelves that lined one wall, her eyes roving over the cold hearth, the scrubbed work table, the stacks of baskets and trunks, the neat futon tucked away in the corner.

Rather than comforting, the normalcy of it all was jarring, alien. It was Kagome herself who stood at odds— _she_  who had changed. Amidst these familiar surroundings, she found herself a stranger, her distress mounting as her foundations crumbled beneath this terrible realization—this harrowing truth that had followed her home from the west.

Her hand swept out as the hysteria overtook her, vases and jars crashing from the shelves to the floor. At the sound of them breaking, something within her snapped as well. With an agonized cry, she tore through her home, stomping and ripping and crushing down the rest of her possessions, listening to them smash and shred and shatter with a perverse sort of pleasure—and a dreadful surge of remorse. Staring down at the irreversible damage, she sank to the planked floor—wondering as she had wondered that day, how something that had been so whole and perfect only minutes before could now be so irrevocably destroyed.

Shards of clay and glass cut her knees as she fell heavily onto them, gazing helplessly around at the havoc she had wrought—at the mayhem that mirrored the turmoil within her. There was nothing to anchor her in this place. No one to pull her from the mire of her pain. Before, there had been Sesshoumaru—but Sesshoumaru was...Sesshoumaru was...

Clutching her head in her hands, Kagome moaned wretchedly as the memory of that consuming heat washed over her, bathing her in a tide of dark demonic flame. She had brought herself off to that hateful blaze—she had brought herself off to Mayuri's murder. Her stomach revolted at the knowledge, dry heaves wracking through her as she doubled over in sickening shame. In her lust, she was complicit—as culpable and irredeemable as the killer himself.

Free-falling through the devastation, Kagome wrapped her arms around herself as she pressed her cheek to the jagged floor, a long, keening wail rising up from the bottom of her soul. It was a sound from the depths, a familiar sound, and as she felt that old icy darkness rising around her, she knew she had only herself to prevent it from closing over her completely.

Slowly, Kagome began to crawl, dragging herself away from that black, razor edge. With shaking fingers, she unlatched the trunk near her bedside, sobbing as she retrieved Inuyasha's fire-rat haori and pulled it around her trembling shoulders. As her tears stained the coarse red fabric, she wound his rosary around her wrist and cradled Tessaiga in her arms. Rocking back and forth, she closed her eyes and breathed in the bitter, bracing remnants of his scent.

This house meant nothing. This village meant nothing. There was only one place that could ground her, only one sanctuary she had left.

Rising shakily to her feet, she strode through the carnage of her home and made her way to the village shrine. Gripping her husband’s red robe about her, she gazed up at the long series of steps, the pale cut stone glowing in the burgeoning twilight. Kagome held Tessaiga to her chest as she climbed, the latent hum of the sword’s power growing stronger as she approached the graves.

Crumpling before Inuyasha’s granite marker, Kagome let the resonant sword roll to the grass between them, her chipped dirty nails catching against the etchings in the stone. As Tessaiga thrummed in mourning, a plaintive whimper escaped her lips.

Though she couldn’t understand the sword as Inuyasha had, she could sense its lamentations, its regrets. Tessaiga was the blade of his father— _their_  father. It connected them still. What had it spoken to her husband in those last fateful weeks? What had it revealed?

She remembered the mounting tension, the muttered warnings. She remembered the edginess, the paranoia, the simmering hostility that seemed to have no outlet, no relief. She remembered the guilt and the suffering, the mad relentless drive for proof—always for  _proof_...

“Why didn’t you  _tell_   _me_ , Inuyasha?” Kagome demanded piteously as she curled her bloody fingers around the rough edges of the stone. “In your heart, you knew... _you knew!_ ”

Hurt and anger flared within her. She would have borne this burden with him. She would have helped him. She never would have abandoned him as he had abandoned her. But instead, instead he had left her—he had left her alone...

Alone with  _him_.

Thunder boomed on high, a tepid breeze stirring the air around her. As lightning split the sky and the scent of ozone suffused her senses, Kagome curled down at the base of her husband's grave and drew his red robe over her with a whimper.

She had been wrong.

There was nothing here for her, either. There was nowhere left for her to turn to. No safe place in all the world for her to go.

As the rain began to fall thick and slow like the blood drops in her dreams, she cradled the now-silent Tessaiga to her chest and stared blankly out toward the edge of the woods. Water pooled in the low ground before her, the dark glassy surface rippling as the rain continued to fall, and fall, and fall...

It was as though all the world was crying, and yet her own eyes remained hollow and dry. She had been seventeen years old when the Bone Eater's Well closed behind her forever. Seventeen years old when Inuyasha had held her to him and promised her as she wept that he would take care of her, always. He would be her husband, her family, and so she had dried her eyes and given him her hand. Together they had defeated Naraku and the Jewel, and she had believed, at long last, that the hole in her heart would mend.

But she had been nineteen years old when death had torn him from her, torn open the wound within her that much deeper. She couldn't staunch the grief that bled from her this time, that hemorrhaged from her in an ocean of tears. It was Sesshoumaru who had salvaged her from the flood. Sesshoumaru who had caught her in his iron grip and fused the broken pieces of her back together again.

" _Sesshoumaru_ ," she breathed out like a curse, because it was  _he_  who had sealed her miserable fate, who had damned her beyond all hope of redemption.

At twenty-one years old, she was a broken woman still. A bitter, twisted, empty shell. She had no tears left to cry now. She had nothing left—nothing but her hatred and her fury. And her gnawing, fathomless remorse.

As the rainwater spread to lap at her fingertips, she gazed deep into the pool's mirrored surface, the reflected moon inverting as she found herself by the lake once again. She was tired, so tired. Every bone in her body ached down to the core.

She was holding on to Inuyasha's neck only barely. As she drifted off, her grip kept slipping, and his own weakened hold was scarcely enough to support her.

"Please, Inuyasha," she begged him once more. "Please, let's just stop here and rest."

"We can't stop here," he bit out in the terse, strained voice he now always seemed to possess. "We need to keep going. This place ain't safe."

"That's what you said the last time," she murmured in frustration, her nails digging into his haori. "And the time before that, and the time before that."

His ears flattened, his bloodshot eyes darting back at her as he clenched his jaw. "If I say it ain't safe, it  _ain't_. Stop nagging."

Whimpering, she clung to him as best she could, worrying at the tremor in his tense, biting claws. Her thighs were chafed raw from where he'd gripped her. For days now they had been trudging along at this grueling pace, pausing only for a handful of minutes at a time. As soon as they stopped, Inuyasha was anxious to be on the move again. When she could go no further on her own, he'd picked her up and continued to drag them haggardly on.

Why, she wanted to ask him. Why this stubborn, reckless urgency? Rather than hunting the killer, it felt more like  _they_  were the ones being pursued.

 _What were you running from, Inuyasha?_  she asked him now in despair.  _You were running from something, weren’t you?_

"...Aren’t you?"

"Huh?"

She was semi-conscious when she felt it grab her, when she felt it rip her from him like the claws of the Beast himself. Inuyasha stumbled forward a step as the short, dark dead tree hooked its thorny fingers deep into her sleeve. She hissed as she was yanked to the ground, the spiny branches lashing across her face. Slowly, so slowly, she wrestled to free herself from the dead tree's vicious hold, not noticing the shift in the air behind her, the ripple that broke the still surface of the lake.

 _The water!_  she yelled at herself now.  _The water, you idiot!_   _The water!_

But by the time she turned, Inuyasha was between them, her sleeve shearing in two as he shoved her roughly aside. She picked herself up as he half-turned toward her, the dragon rising behind him in a crystalline spray—

Silver glinted from his neck, a shining thread. And then his head was sliding free, falling away from the rest of him as she screamed and screamed and screamed.

All she could see was the gush of his blood. All she could feel was the hot rush of it over her hands as she crawled to his side, as the dragon bore down on them both and vaporized against the blinding light that flared from her in her anguish.

"No," she moaned futilely as she held his severed head to his neck. "No, no, no, no,  _no_..."

Closing his lifeless eyes, she lay down in the blood beside him, wrapped her arms around him as the soaked sand of the lakeshore caved beneath them. She wanted the earth to swallow her up.

She still did.

But as she stared wretchedly on, red eyes glared back at her from the shadows of the woods, a pale figure striding toward her through the darkness—

"Kagome."

Her eyes widened, adrenaline pounding through her veins. Her power blazed around her as that ghostly form moved closer, and closer still...

" _Kagome,_ child."

The miko started, vertigo crashing over her as she bolted upright. Inuyasha's haori slid heavily from her shoulders, her hands white-knuckled as she clutched Tessaiga to her heart. Breathing rapidly, blinking furiously in the ruddy light of dawn, she met Kaede's equally startled gaze.

"Kagome, child," the elderly miko began again, shifting her basket of urns and incense from one arm to the other. "What are ye doing here, at this hour?"

"Baa-chan..." Swiping a grimy hand over her stinging face, Kagome fought to even out her breathing, her shoulders slumping as she lowered the battered sword. "I—I must have fallen asleep."

Kaede’s brow creased deeply in concern. "Did ye spend the night in this place?"

Kagome didn't answer. Climbing stiffly to her feet, she gathered up Inuyasha's few possessions and stepped past her, back toward the village. Her head swam, her eyes red-rimmed and searing. As she forced herself across the threshold of her home— _their_  home—in the fragments of a busted mirror on the floor, she caught a glimpse of the wasted wraith she'd become.

For an interminable amount of time, she stood there, frozen amidst the rubble of her ruined life. Then, she heard a voice at the door.

"Kagome-san? Kagome-san, are you home?"

Picking her way across the wreckage around her, she pushed the curtain aside and frowned. "Kohaku-kun."

At the sight of her, the taijiya frowned as well. Dark eyes moved carefully over her scratched, ashen face.

"Kaede-sama told me you'd returned," he said with a trace of uncertainty. "...Are you well?"

Kagome crumbled at the question. As she listed forward, Kohaku caught her against him, lowering them both to the porch. Clutching his leather armor for support, Kagome stared up at him in a cold sweat.

“D-didn’t sleep,” she stammered out, struggling for coherence as a barrage of razor-edged emotion assailed her. “The nightmares...the dead girls...Inuyasha...”

Kohaku’s gaze softened. “I’m sorry, Kagome-san. I came here to tell you that I found no further trace of the Beast during my travels north. But Rin tells me Sesshoumaru-sama has returned to the Western Lands. I’ll go see him in a few days and seek his counsel. Surely he will know how to proceed.”

Kagome went deathly still. As he set her upon her feet once again, her arms fell woodenly from him, her haunted gaze descending to the vial at his hip.


	10. The Killing Ground, Pt.1

**- The Killing Ground -**

**Part One**

Kagome stood alone on the porch, watching after Kohaku long after he'd left. Leaning heavily against the outer wall of her home, she tried to bring her whirlwind of fears under control.

The vial. The detection charm. Were Kohaku to encounter Sesshoumaru with it, he would know. And if he knew, if he knew...

Kagome clutched her arms around one another, holding herself together as she trembled. Kohaku was a taijiya. No matter how much he respected and even admired Sesshoumaru, a murdering demon was a murdering demon. Kagome knew Sango's brother—knew he would challenge Sesshoumaru if he discovered the truth. Even if he stood no chance of success, Kohaku would never back down. He would die attempting to slay Sesshoumaru.

With that vial on him, Kohaku would be walking into a death trap. Kagome couldn't let that happen. He had said a few days. A few days...

Easing herself off the wall, she grasped for a pail and staggered down the porch steps to the little well that lay off to one side of the yard. Tying the bucket to a rope, she lowered and raised it, detached it and with Herculean effort lifted it high and poured the icy contents over her head. Spluttering, shivering, she slicked back her drenched bangs and swept the clean, dry corner of a sleeve over her freezing face.

The cold braced her, revived her. Resting her palms on the ledge of the well, she felt her thoughts settle, crisp and cool. She needed to get that vial away from Kohaku. If he didn't have it on him, he would be none-the-wiser to Sesshoumaru's true nature. He would be safe.

Determination steeled her. Kagome may have failed Mayuri, but she  _would_  protect Kohaku. She would find a way.

As her mind raced to come up with a plan, she strode briskly back to the house. Eyes narrowed and jaw set, she began cleaning up the place, ordering her thoughts as she ordered her home. Time was against her. She could try to convince Kohaku not to go see Sesshoumaru, to delay their inevitable confrontation and buy herself a few more days, perhaps, to strategize.

But she considered this only briefly—the fact of the matter was, Sesshoumaru himself could show up in Edo at any moment. If he came here, if Kohaku uncovered him  _here_ , the entire village would be in danger. Sango and Miroku would become embroiled in the conflict, Kaede, even Rin...

Kagome clenched her sore fingers hard around the broom handle, this nightmarish scenario making her ill with dread. No—she had to get that vial away from him as soon as possible. But how? Even if she  _could_  manage to steal it, Kohaku was shrewd. He would know she had taken it—who else would? It would only be natural for him to suspect her motives. To begin to suspect Sesshoumaru...

The end result, she feared, would be the same. As Kagome finished cleaning up the house, she turned to herself. Stripping away her stiff dirty clothes, she scrubbed herself off and sealed up the raw tears and scrapes in her flesh. As the sun began to set, she cooked some rice and chewed it mechanically as she continued to mull over the pressing crisis.

What she needed was to disarm the enchantment, to render it useless somehow. If the spell was broken, Kohaku could keep the vial on him and still never suspect a thing. Bracing her chin in her hand, Kagome frowned. Getting close enough to do that without being detected seemed almost impossible...

Night fell, and Kagome found herself circling around the only option available to her, risky though it was. Pacing back and forth in the near-empty hut, she knew she couldn’t afford to wait. Each hour that passed brought them that much closer to peril.

Kohaku would be tired from his travels. Safe here in his home village, he would be relaxed, would sleep far deeper than he’d been able to out in the wilds. She couldn’t conceal herself from him like she could from Sesshoumaru, but she could be quiet—

Quiet enough, she prayed.

As the hour grew late, Kagome set out for Kohaku’s home, a small thatch-roofed dwelling that lay over the hill from Miroku and Sango’s farm. Approaching the hut from behind, she slipped off her sandals and set her dim lantern down in the grass beside them.

Slowly, carefully, she crept up toward the door, scarcely daring to breathe as she pushed the heavy curtain aside and entered. She had only been here a few times before with Sango and Rin, but she remembered the layout of the place well enough. Toward the back of the dark room Kohaku slept soundly, the sharp lines of his face softened by the muted glow of the hearth’s fading embers.

And glinting from the belt that hung on the wall behind him, was the vial of curse-blackened earth.

Heart hammering, Kagome made her way toward it, silent as the grave. Stepping lightly around him, she uncurled her clammy fingers and reached out—

As a board creaked faintly beneath her shifted weight, and the cold point of a blade pressed to her throat.

“...Kagome-san?”

The miko swallowed cautiously, her hand returning discreetly to her side as Kohaku lowered his katana. Her eyes fell to the gray gleaming edge of the blade, to the pale muscular arms that held it suspended. The thin blanket he’d been sleeping under now draped low on his waist, revealing the breadth of his toned chest and torso. Unconsciously, Kagome followed the stark lines dividing his abs from his hips, as aware of his lack of proper clothing as he was becoming of hers.

As the hostility bled from his posture, as the haze of sleep lifted and his eyes lingered on her bare legs and shoulders, a new brand of tension filled the air. Wetting her dry, cracked lips, Kagome’s pulse thrummed low and dark as she seized upon a last ditch effort to salvage her plan.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered as she slowly knelt down, her bent legs just touching to the edge of the futon. “...Can I stay here with you?”

Laying the sword aside, Kohaku nodded, watching her intently—almost warily—as she slid into bed beside him. Her modern slip of a nightdress twisted as she turned toward him, the plunging neckline dragging even lower as she touched a hand to the center of his tightly wound chest. It was his turn to swallow now, his onyx eyes dipping to her cleavage, trailing over the exposed right swell of her breast.

His heart hammered beneath her palm, his tousled sable hair feathering over her knuckles. He looked like a younger version of Inuyasha in his human form—a thought that emboldened her as she leaned up and pressed her mouth to his. For a moment, Kohaku was frozen, but as she continued to move her lips against his, he melted into her, his hand cupping the side of her face as he deepened the kiss with a muffled groan.

His abs flinched as she trailed her hand down his body, her wrist grazing against the raised head of his erection. He twitched at the contact, breaking abruptly from her mouth as she wrapped her fingers firmly around the middle of his shaft. His brow crushed to hers, his warm breath panting over her cheek as he seized her by the shoulder.

“ _Kagome_ ,” he grit out when she began to pump him, his lips seeking hers fiercely once again.

His whole body was shaking, wracked with pent-up desire. Guilt snaked through her. She knew that Kohaku’d had a crush on her when he was a boy. She’d always just assumed he’d grown out of it, like most kids do, but now she wasn’t so sure. She wanted to believe he’d been with another woman. She hoped that he had.

Her hold on him broke as he pushed her back toward the mattress, aiming to trap her beneath him. He’d be inside her in an instant if Kagome allowed him that—and as much as she cared for Kohaku, she couldn’t. Penetration was a marriage act. In her heart, she was married still.

Pressing her full weight into him, she tipped him over onto his back instead. Her thighs settled around his waist, her naked sex skirting his taut lower stomach. Kohaku’s chest heaved as she pinned his wrists to the futon above him and bent down to kiss him again.

Hungrily, he opened his mouth against hers, every lean muscle in him wired to lunge. Kohaku was strong—far stronger than she was. But Kagome could sense that she had the upper hand with him. It was a strange sensation, to have power over a powerful man.

A kind of thrill.

Her nipples peeked through the satiny fabric of her nightgown, her lower lips gliding damply over the hard throbbing length of him. Moaning her name raggedly, Kohaku surged up against her. Kagome bit down sharply on her lip when he bumped her clit, bringing one hand between them as she rocked back against him.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured as she touched him again, his freed hand smoothing up from her knee. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

Kagome's breath caught at the raw adoration gleaming in his eyes. Her pulse quickened, her grip tightening around him as her open heat kissed the base of his shaft. Beneath the short hem of her gown, callused fingertips scratched pleasurably over the curve of her hip.

"I was the one watching you that day, in the forest," he confessed huskily, the pad of his thumb caressing the dip in her inner thigh.

A current of indignation simmered within her. Kagome's eyes narrowed down at him.

"That was wrong of you, Kohaku," she ground out, stroking him roughly in reprimand.

His head fell back, his eyes squeezing shut on a groan. "...I know," he rasped. "Forgive me."

“...I forgive you,” she said, rubbing her thumb once over his weeping tip.

In truth, she was grateful for his misconduct that day. It made her feel a little less guilty for what she was doing to him now.

The world wasn’t just or fair—this painful lesson Kagome had learned years ago. To survive in these cruel times, a woman had to make her own brand of justice. Male lust had destroyed her life, and now it had tainted the image of an otherwise kind and courteous young man.

She forgave Kohaku, but she would never see him the same way again. And for that, he deserved this. He deserved to feel the body he lusted for hovering just beyond his reach. He deserved the punishing pressure of her fist grating over his cock, the harsh bite of her nails piercing into the underside of his captive wrist. He deserved the fiery friction that drove him brutally over the edge with a shout, deserved to be drenched in the evidence of his depravity as it pulsed from him in hot sticky streams.

In this, Kagome’s hands were clean.

As Kohaku went limp beneath her, she climbed off of him, frowning down at the pearly liquid pooling between the faint ridges of his muscles. His eyes followed her blearily as she started to rise, his fingers grasping weakly at her wrist. With a sigh, she shook him off her, a deep, death-like sleep claiming him a moment later.

Swiping her lips clean with the back of her hand, she stepped purposefully over to the hanging vial, and purified the dark earth within it.


	11. The Killing Ground, Pt.2

****-** The Killing Ground -**

**Part Two**

Setting the low-burning lantern down on a rock near the shore, Kagome waded fully-clothed into the moonlit stream. Clear, cool water flowed gently past her, tugging at her thin gown and adhering it to her flesh. Lying back, she let herself drift along in the current, her long hair billowing out around her in a soft, inky halo. As the surface of the stream closed over her face, she thought of Mayuri, of Kanako. Of all the girls consigned to a cold and watery grave.

Here, like this, she felt closest to them, imagined their souls floating along with hers in the muted, otherworldly dark. Their sadness, their loss, their bitterness was her own. Mothers and daughters, sisters and wives—why was it that women seemed doomed to bear the brunt of suffering in this life? She grieved for her own mother, who had never known what became of her only daughter. Remembering Kanako's, perhaps it was better this way.

Her lungs burned, her heart ached. She longed to stay here in the quiet shadowed depths, but the world above was calling her back with harsh glaring tyranny, and while she lived, she had no choice but to obey. Gasping, she broke the glassy surface, beads of water streaming down her face like tears as her feet returned to the earth once again. The shared anguish of the dead returned with her, but their vengeance was hers alone to bear.

Gliding over to the bank, she took up her lantern and sandals and padded back to her home through the slippery pliant grass. Inside, she peeled off her dripping nightdress and strung it up on a line across the wall. Naked, she curled onto her side by the hearth, stoking the coals as she peered long and deep into their fiery red hearts.

Whether she dozed or not was impossible for her to say. The constant exhaustion of her concealment spell blurred the lines of her conscious states. But as dawn crept in with its prying rosy fingers, she stood and dressed herself in full miko attire once again.

The morning proceeded routinely enough. She made her rounds of the village, attending to all the duties she'd neglected the previous day. Her friends and neighbors were relieved to see her—and happy to receive the gifts of her most recent labors, which Kaede had discovered still hanging from Jiro's saddlebags upon his return.

It was around noon, as she was tilling over the shambles of her garden, burying the remains of her poor mutilated plants beneath a cool layer of loamy dirt, that she felt a touch upon her shoulder. Tensing, Kagome turned.

"Kohaku-kun," she said, schooling her expression as she leaned the rake against the outer wall of her home.

"Kagome," he greeted in reply, the lack of honorific disquieting her as much as the gloved fingers tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "How are you?"

Kagome frowned, uncertain how to respond—to the touch and the question both. Brows furrowing slightly, Kohaku stepped closer as she retreated toward the wall.

"You were gone before I awoke," he said carefully, the corners of his lips pulling down. "I hope what happened last night didn't upset you."

She swallowed. "I'm not upset—"

"Good," he breathed out in relief, slipping his arm around her waist as he drew her into him and crushed his mouth to hers.

Kagome's eyes flared wide as she pushed against him. His fingers splayed possessively over her lower back, his lips pursuing hers the moment she managed to break free.

"Kagome-chan, I've brought you the—"

Still entwined, Kagome and Kohaku froze, both of them turning toward the front of the house, where Rin stood with basket of herbs in hand. Silent and stricken, Kagome's young apprentice looked between them for a tense moment before dropping the basket and fleeing back toward the village with cheeks aflame. Guilt surged through Kagome at her departure, her palms pressing firmly to Kohaku's chest as she shoved him forcefully back.

"Kagome," he said, his jaw tightening as he reached for her again. "If you're still angry about what I told you—"

"It's not that," she snapped, knocking his hand aside. "Listen, Kohaku—I’m sorry, but what happened between us last night was a mistake."

"A mistake," he repeated slowly, his gaze narrowing. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that it was a one-time thing," Kagome said vehemently. "Not to be repeated again.  _Ever_."

Kohaku stared at her hard. "A 'mistake'...a 'one-time thing'." He scowled, the hurt that flashed in his dark eyes piercing her to the core. "...What kind of woman are you?"

At a loss, Kagome stared back. After another long, critical glance, the taijiya turned and strode away, sunlight gleaming darkly from the curved edge of his sickle blade.

Bracing one hand against the wall, Kagome closed her eyes, his last condemning words resounding within her.  _What kind of woman are you..._

As her eyes opened again, she hardly knew. What she had done to Kohaku was reprehensible. Clasping a trembling hand to her mouth, Kagome hunched over, overcome with sudden shame. Necessary as it was, she had used her body to cover for Sesshoumaru. She had deceived another man on his behalf. On behalf of a  _killer._

Rage, pure and raw, boiled up from her soul. What was she doing, idling about in Edo while Sesshoumaru roamed free? As she set out from her home, her path was clear. She would do what she should have done from the very start: Destroy Sesshoumaru, or die in the attempt.

She had slain hundreds of vile demons—what was one more? Even if it cost Kagome her life, she could at least seal him away. He would be as good as dead then. And if not...

She would finish him in the next life.

Shifting her bow and quiver over her shoulder, she stalked up to Kaede's hut, the elder miko meeting her at the door.

"Baa-chan," Kagome said without preamble. "May I borrow your horse?"

Clearly surprised, the old woman nodded nonetheless, her eyes moving cautiously over Kagome's fierce expression. "Of course ye may."

Kagome walked around to the paddock. Meeting Jiro's stubborn resistance as expected, she offered him the last bit of sugar she had left from the Modern Era. Placated by this, the horse allowed her to saddle and mount him, and now seemingly accustomed to her domineering ways, to spur him on toward the west at breakneck pace.

Concealed still, Kagome extended her senses outward, seeking that familiar youki signature. At home in his own lands, Sesshoumaru was easy enough for her to locate—his demonic aura exuding in powerful, dominant waves. Eyes narrowed, Kagome urged the aged horse furiously onward toward the source, bolstering him with her reiki when he began to tire.

Ascending the steep slope of a mountain path, Kagome rode hard past a baffled Jakken and Ah-Un—drawing Jiro to a sudden halt at the top of a cliff, where Sesshoumaru was holding council with two other tall, stately youkai. The silver-haired, coral-ornamented demons eyed what appeared to be a lone, sweating horse with obvious confusion—though the Lord of the Western Lands was more circumspect.

Dropping her concealment spell to the varying shock of the assembled youkai, she slipped breathlessly down from Jiro's back as she fixed her brother-in-law with a venomous glare.

"We need to talk."

Sesshoumaru's glance was measured as he stepped briskly away from his youkai entourage and led her back down into the wooded valley below. Setting her jaw, the miko followed him at a distance, adrenaline crashing through her veins. His sheet of spun silver hair gleamed in the afternoon light, his long luxurious pelt shimmering from his shoulder. Composed as he was, in full armor and dress, he seemed another being entirely from the deranged, lust-warped creature she'd last encountered.

It was unsettling, unnerving. Keeping her gaze steady, she reminded herself of what she knew—of what she had seen with her own eyes, of what she had detected with her own senses.

Of what she felt to be true deep within her heart and soul.

As they passed into a large, barren clearing, Kagome drew to a stop. "That's far enough."

Sesshoumaru paused, looking back at her, his golden eyes arresting her all the more. Hands balling to fists at her sides, Kagome steeled herself against him.

"I saw you with her," she bit out, to the point. "I saw you with Mayuri."

Turning fully toward her, Sesshoumaru held her gaze. "Who is Mayuri?"

Kagome grit her teeth, her nails cutting crescents into her sweating palms.  _Of course_  he wouldn't remember. A lowly human—why would he bother remembering anything about her? Righteous anger flared out from Kagome, encapsulating the whole clearing in a barrier of scintillating, rose-colored light. Sesshoumaru's eyes flicked briefly to the dome of reiki that caged them before returning to her.

"The human you were  _fucking_  three nights ago," Kagome elaborated tersely, retrieving and arming her bow in one smooth movement before leveling the point of her nocked arrow against him. "Her  _name_ ," she growled out, "was  _Mayuri_."

Sesshoumaru’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. Pulling back the bowstring a little farther, Kagome released another snarling, furious breath.

" _Mayuri_ ," she seethed again. "The  _least_  you could do is remember her name, you bastard."

"I did not know it," Sesshoumaru replied, his voice even and cool.

At this dispassionate admission, Kagome trembled, struggling to maintain her grip. It was fury that had propelled her here, fury that had placed her weapon into her hands. But as she faced him now, cold uncertainty trickled into the heat of her wrath.

Stoic and regal, he stood before her. His snowy sleeves, hair, and fur rippled faintly in the breeze, but otherwise he was still as a statue. Perfect as a statue—the same paragon of self-control and restraint she had always known him to be. Always  _believed_  him to be.

Kagome's hands shook fiercely, her brows drawing together as she studied his angelic face. "Tell me you didn't kill her," she whispered, not fully realizing how desperately she wanted this to be so until the words were falling from her lips. " _Please_."

Sesshoumaru stared back at her, his silence deafening.  _Damning_. Kagome wilted beneath it, suffered beneath it. Though she had not thought it possible, her eyes welled as she looked upon him, her tears spilling over in a hot, caustic fall. And now she knew with crippling certainty—now she knew that there was still enough of a heart left in her to break.

It had always been in her nature to form attachments too easily. Inuyasha had known this—had tried to warn her against it. He had tried. And still, still she...

"How could you," she accused him brokenly, her agony—her power—wreathing up around her in a torrent of white-edged flames. "She had a husband—she had a  _child_. A boy—a young  _boy_ _!_ "

A shadow passed briefly over his features. "It was not my intention.”

"Not your intention," Kagome repeated acidly, the towering blaze of her reiki climbing unsteadily higher. "What does that even mean? You  _monster_ , you—" Anguished, she broke off with a vicious shake of her head. "You  _raped_  her. You  _murdered_  her. You threw her away like she was nothing—she was  _nothing_  to you, was she?"

"No, Kagome," he said, his eyes searing into hers like the fires of hell itself. "She was nothing to me."

A harsh, strangled sound broke from her lips. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, though he had yet to raise even the slightest defense against her—let alone an attack. A sick sadistic part of her was vindicated by what he'd said, and she knew in that moment that she could never put him down.

Faced with this utter betrayal, she thought of Kikyou—of how she'd used the last of her power to seal Inuyasha away under the mere pretense of deception. It was in this moment that Kagome realized the true difference between herself and her predecessor—it was not goodness. It was not mercy, or forgiveness—

It was  _weakness_.

“Why...” she said softly, tremulously, as her strength began to fail, the patter of her teardrops against the dusty ground thundering in her ears. “...Why did it have to be you?”

Her reiki extinguished, her bow and arrow clattering from her hands as she sank to the ground beside them. Lying there on her side in the dirt, she gazed helplessly up at the beautiful, blurring face of the Beast that approached her and saw only the one she had loved.

Closing her eyes, she saw him still.


	12. The Beast

**- The Beast -**

_Inuyasha..._

_Inuyasha, forgive me._

Golden and still, his eyes stared back at her, his silver hair dark and wet with his blood. With shaking fingers Kagome brushed the soft fringe of his raven lashes, eased his fixed lids down over his empty eyes like window shades. Curling into his lingering warmth, she lay down with him in the craterous depression his body had made in the sand.

Her own eyes remained open and staring. Seeing but not seeing. As his warmth faded with the light of day, she shivered, clinging to his cool, stiff corpse—wondering vaguely if a demon would happen upon them and devour their remains.

Because although she could move, she was dead with him—she must be. How could she exist, apart from him? How could she go on living without him? Inuyasha, Inuyasha...

Her life, her love.

Her everything.

Without him, she was lost and adrift. Alone and untethered in this world. Silently weeping, she threaded her fingers through his rigid claws, holding on to him as she careened through the void and the darkness.

“...Kagome.”

Slowly, her gaze focused on the pale, glowing figure approaching her through the shadows. Silver hair, golden eyes. His appearance was alien and strange, yet so familiar—so achingly familiar. Her brow furrowed, her eyes narrowing as she struggled to place him within the context of her nightmare—to reconcile his haunting likeness with the one etched into her heart.

“ _Kagome_ ,” he said to her again, his fair features hard and drawn—the edges of her vision trembling at the timbre of his voice.

Clawed fingers slid over her ribs, wedged between her and the body—the  _dead_  body, the  _dead body—_ of her husband. With sudden, frightening lucidity she started—as if awakening from one terrible dream into another.

Except for the agony lancing through her, she might have believed it to be so.

“ _No!_ ” she cried out, her fingers hooking into the sticky crusted fabric of her husband’s haori. “Inuyasha!  _Inuyasha!_ ”

But the iron hands around her were prising her away, dragging her thrashing and wailing against an armored chest. As her reiki flared on instinct, a snarl of pain rent the boggy air, a firm grip at her nape directing her panicked gaze toward the demon behind her.

“Look at me, Kagome.” The grip tightened. “ _Look at me_.”

Her wide, wild eyes roved over her brother-in-law’s stony face, her lungs heaving as she recognized him at last. Swallowing jerkily, she sagged in his hold, the tears that filmed her eyes obscuring the glimmer of his own.

“Sesshoumaru...Sesshoumaru, h-he—Inuyasha is...I-inuyasha was...” Her expression crumpled, her words dissolving into a series of incomprehensible, irrepressible sobs.

The pressure at her nape lessened, Sesshoumaru's touch shifting down her spine and around her. As he turned her against him, as he slipped his other arm beneath her knees and started to rise, she lunged for Inuyasha in violent distress.

“ _Stop!_ ” she shrieked, struggling. “ _Don’t_ —don’t leave him!” Her voice fell to a piteous whine as he subdued her and drew her back. “You can’t leave him, you  _can’t_...”

Holding her tightly to his chest, Sesshoumaru stood. “I am taking you home. Jakken will guard him until I return.”

Trembling, defeated, she tore her watery gaze away from the imp standing sentinel over the body of her dead husband and sank into the circle of Sesshoumaru’s arms with a whimper. Her face hid itself in the soft fur cascading from his shoulder, her fingers curling over the cold, metallic edge of his breastplate. A cloud of youki gathered beneath them. Shutting her eyes, she clung to him as they rose.

As the days stretched on, he alone kept her anchored against the sweeping currents of her misery, kept her moving when all she wanted to do was lie down in the blood and the ashes and let them bury her alive. In the formless wasteland of her grief, he was the only solid thing she could see, and so she latched onto him with fierce desperation.

He had brought her to the brink of her despair and delivered her from it. He was her enemy and her ally. Her tormentor and her savior.

And she was clinging to him, still.

_I couldn’t end it, either_ , she confessed to the memory of her departed love.  _I lost my nerve._

_I..._

_I failed them, too._

Silver hair whispered across her cheek like threads of spider silk, clawed hands holding her suspended above the crumbling chaos of her existence. When his molten gaze fell to hers, her cracked eyes sheened and shivered, tears bleeding from the seam of her lashes as they melded back together again.

He  _was_  the chaos. The monster, the killer, the—

_No_ , she begged the heartless gods above.  _This time...this time, please—please just let this all be another bad dream._

“...Please,” she whispered aloud as her eyes fluttered open again.

She was in her own home, lying in her own bed. As she stared up at the gentle, dancing reflections of the hearth fire on the sloped ceiling, a shallow breath of relief passed her lips. Her joints cracked as she sat up, her cramped muscles protesting the motion.

Wincing, she rolled her left shoulder to stretch it—noticing then that she was still clothed in her miko attire, the long, snow white sleeve of her haori stained black with streaks of soot. Her spine went rigid at the sight, her pulse pounding in her ears as she turned slowly toward the opposite wall.

Two bright, mirrored eyes studied her through the darkness. Slit pupils narrowed as they moved toward her, into the flickering light. Half cloaked in the shifting umbra of the shadows, Sesshoumaru regarded her, his features ghostly and obscure.

“Now,” he said to her, “let us talk.”

Kagome scrambled back, her shoulder smacking the wall as he took another step toward her. "W-why," she stammered out, her voice faint with apprehension. "Why didn't you kill me?"

Her fear mounted as he continued to advance, her eyes darting frantically around for her weapons—to no avail. Not that they would do her much good anyway, with her reiki diminished and him nearly upon her. As the toes of his boots touched the edge of the futon, her heart threatened to burst from her chest.

Then, gracefully, Sesshoumaru lowered himself to the floor. "Why would I kill you?"

At his serene tone and posture, a little of Kagome's tension bled from her, her shoulders sinking down the wall. "I threatened you," she answered haltingly. "I wanted to kill you." She swallowed hard around the dark, leaden weight in her throat. "...I still want to kill you."

His keen glance cut through her. "But you cannot."

Twisting her dirty fingers into the bedsheets, Kagome looked down.

"Then," he said as he leaned in toward her, his voice edged in a way that cut her deeper still, "you acknowledge the bond that we share."

He was giving her no choice  _but_  to acknowledge it. Lifting her gaze to his, she mustered the strength to admit the shameful truth.

"You aren't just any demon to me," she confessed bitterly. "You're Inuyasha’s brother." Looking into his eyes, she hesitated. "You're like a brother to me, too."

Sesshoumaru drew back from her, his expression unreadable. Kagome frowned. There was a power, a finality, to stating their relationship in words. Perhaps he hadn't meant for her to go that far—perhaps, like Kagome herself, he hadn't been fully prepared to hear her spell it out. But there it was, stabbing into them both, and as her resentment sharpened into anger, she leaned forward and twisted the knife at both ends.

"That fact that you're sitting here right now is because of my failure as a priestess—as a woman." Her eyes were flinty, piercing. "You murdered those poor girls and made me a widow. Maybe it wasn't your hands that did it, but  _you_  are the one responsible for Inuyasha's death. Chasing after you is what drove him to distraction, or he never would have died that day. You betrayed him—you betrayed us  _both_. Even after he was dead, you  _continued_  to deceive me."

Sesshoumaru regarded her, unflinching. "I sought only to protect you."

"To  _protect_  me?" she shot back incredulously. "Hiding the truth from me wasn't ever going to 'protect me'! Did you think I wouldn't find out, eventually? You  _know_  how determined I was to track down the killer—to track down  _you_ ," she amended caustically.

His trailing fur sheened as he imperceptibly shifted, the tips of his claws denting the knees of his hakama in points of shadow. There was an unmistakable tightness to his expression. Dimly, Kagome realized she had struck a nerve with him. Perversely, she was pleased.

"I had been hoping to end it," he said to her shortly. "Before such a thing came to pass."

Kagome eyed him critically. "By continuing to seek out victims, you'd hoped to  _end_   _it_?  _Willingly_ , you preyed upon those girls—targeted them, used them,  _hurt_  them—"

"No," he said sharply, making Kagome pause in her tirade. "I meant them no harm."

"You honestly expect me to believe that?" she countered venomously. "I  _saw_  what you did to them, Sesshoumaru—you ripped them apart!"

"It was incidental," he replied, frowning as he looked away from her. "Regrettable." A muscle in his jaw tensed like steel wire, his voice pitching lower still. "I have been trying to temper it, without success."

"To temper what?" she pressed him warily.

His reflective stare returned to her, edged red by the firelight. And with a hitch in her breath, she saw it—a shadow of the heat, the frenzy.

The Beast within.

"You understand that youkai mating urges are far stronger than humans'," Sesshoumaru stated, holding her gaze with disturbing intensity. "That among my kind, a point is reached at which the act must continue."

Furiously, Kagome flushed, her unease magnified. Only after she and Inuyasha had married had he confided to her how difficult it’d been for him to be around her at times—especially, unsettingly, when she was 'in season,' as he'd put it. She'd understood, then, why he'd been so irascible and distant with her on those occasions. Even early on, when she'd suspected him of sneaking off to see Kikyou, he'd often just been giving his beleaguered instincts a break.

There were  _other_  instincts as well—other things she'd come to learn about after marrying him...

"You don't have to do that," she told Sesshoumaru bluntly. "You don't  _have_  to reach that point."

"No," he conceded, "yet my nature drives me to it. Unchecked, I  _will_  reach it, whether I wish to or not." He glanced away from her again. "By the time I return to myself, it is too late. Before, I had Tenseiga, but now..."

Kagome fought to suppress a shudder. Against a demon as powerful as Sesshoumaru, an ordinary woman stood no chance of keeping him in check. Even Mayuri's latent reiki hadn't been enough. With vast natural power and years of experience wielding it, Kagome doubted whether even  _she_  could.

"You have to stop," she blurted out, her voice rising somewhat hysterically. "If you can't keep your instincts from taking hold of you, then you  _have_  to stop rutting with humans. You’ve seen over and over again that they can't survive it. Take your urges out on demonesses who can."

Chillingly, he met her eye. "They are no longer to my taste."

Kagome's panic rose—along with her fury. So, at last they came to the crux of the issue: Sesshoumaru had sampled mortal women and now preferred them.  _Exclusively_.

An obsession, a human fetish— _this_  was the reason why those women had been killed. It was sick, repulsive. More hypocritical than she ever could have imagined. All the disdain, all the barbs and opposition—and in the end, he was the worst perpetrator of the bunch. She wondered just how long his twisted lust had been dictating his actions. Her mouth even opened to ask him—

Then she decided, as her stomach gave a sour turn, that she was better off not knowing.

“If you truly regretted it,” she bit out instead, “if you truly wanted it to stop, you should have come to me.”

Sesshoumaru inclined his head to her in deference. “I am coming to you now.”

Kagome considered him narrowly. For all his power, for all his pride and outward perfection, Sesshoumaru harbored this one detestable weakness. This single damning flaw. She despised it, loathed it, but still, she couldn’t quite bring herself to loathe  _him_.

And so, she would have to  _fix_  him.

A curious electricity ran through her at this revelation—a surreal lightness. An  _epiphany_. In that moment of divine clarity, she saw herself—saw her entire life—as if from above. All the twisted paths, all the seemingly disjointed pieces formed a pattern. Every decision she had made had led her to this moment, and she could see, she could see that  _this_  was her destiny.

_He_  was her destiny.

The zeal of this conviction lit her eyes—lit her whole being from the way he was looking at her. Her doubts vanished. She knew now that she was strong enough—because she  _had_  to be.

“Alright.”

His gaze snapped to hers—demonic and dark, the antithesis to all that she was, to all that she believed in. She felt the fullness of her power, the righteousness of her wrath propel her to her feet above him.

“If your father could control himself, then so can you,” she declared. “You are going to learn how— _I’m_  going to teach you how.” Decisively, she peered down at him as he stared up at her in rapt attention. “ _I’m_  going to check you, Sesshoumaru.”

This was the lot she had drawn, her duty and her penance both—and it was just. It was  _right_.

So perfectly, terribly  _right_.

Sesshoumaru continued to stare up at her, utterly still. His lips were slightly parted, his dilated pupils transfixed upon her. His restrained youki stirred, but she knew he wouldn't raise it against her. Like with Kohaku, Kagome realized—with no small amount of gratification—that she had the upper hand with him. Unlike with Kohaku, she felt no compunction in using it.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she sternly resumed. "There will be _no more killings—_ do you understand?"

"Yes," he said promptly, huskily, covering her bare toes with his claws.

Kagome jerked her foot back as if burned, her lips thinning in disgust. "Don't you  _dare_  touch me. The next time you get that filthy urge of yours, you come to me. Until then, get out of my sight. You're not welcome in my home. You're not welcome in this village, anymore."

Slowly, Sesshoumaru retracted his hand, a scowl darkening his features.

Kagome glared back at him, a pale flame of reiki enfolding her. " _Get out._ "

Scowling still, Sesshoumaru left.


	13. Rat in a Cage, Pt.1

Author's note: Ha ha, this one ended up becoming a behemoth, so I split itttt. While I'm running my mouth, would just like to give a heartfelt thank you to all of you who've commented on the story thus far! Your feedback is invaluable, especially on a dark ride such as this ;) Hope you enjoy...

****-** Rat in a Cage -**

**Part One**

Kagome was grateful for her anger. Compared to her sadness, it was a welcome refuge, and she took solace in the white-hot fury that gripped her heart. It energized her, galvanized her, as she went about her duties with fervent, compulsive diligence.

Discipline and industry were important, essential—these were lessons she had learned from  _him_ , of all people. After Inuyasha had been burned and buried, and she had lain there, languishing in his absence, it was Sesshoumaru who had dragged her up and imposed his own sense of structure on her days. It was this same rigorous schedule that she followed in spirit even now, and the irony set her teeth that much more on edge.

To think that in the end, she would be the one to return the lesson of discipline to  _him_ —but perhaps this, too, had been by design. Like two knives, they sharpened one another necessarily. Where he dulled, where  _he_  languished, she would force him back into proper form once more.

In this way, she would make order from the chaos of this world.

Her morning tasks attended to, Kagome spent the rest of the day traveling between the scattered ring of waypoints that encircled the perimeter of the village. These were stacked stone markers which she had enshrined and regularly reinforced with her own reiki—combined, they formed a powerful protective barrier against demonic intruders. Kagome had spelled them to allow only trusted youkai to pass through uninhibited. Now, she amended that enchantment, revoking her brother-in-law’s access to Edo village.

If he attempted to force his way in, she would know at once—though she doubted that he would dare. The point of the exercise was more to send a message. Next time he came calling, he could wait outside on the doorstep for her like the animal he was.

She slept more soundly that night, knowing that he couldn’t just come and go here as he pleased. This was  _her_  village—these were  _her_  people. Hers to defend against the Beast and the lurking threat that he presented.

The next morning she awoke invigorated, ready to enforce her iron peace upon the region at large. While most youkai had the good sense to steer clear of her sphere of influence, her power was an attractant as much as a deterrent—and there would always be foolish demons itching to take her on. She had learned over the years that it was better to deal with these trespassers swiftly and thoroughly before they could cause trouble in the neighboring villages.

This time was no different. Though her opponent was stronger than most, as she met him in the outlying hills, he proved as foolish as the rest. Glaring into his many red eyes, it was almost with relish that she put him down, the blast of her arrow leaving no trace of him behind her as she turned toward home.

On the road outside of Edo, a familiar face gave her sudden pause.

“Rin-chan,” she greeted in surprise, her gaze lingering on the suspiciously large basket hanging from the younger woman’s shoulders. “...Where are you going?”

Setting her jaw, Rin glanced away. “You told me yourself that Tatsumi-sama wished to have a miko in his employ. I’m going there to offer my services.”

Kagome frowned. For the past few days, her apprentice had been avoiding her. She’d been too concerned with safeguarding the village to address it—waiting, also, for the right time to broach the subject she’d been dreading. But there was no delaying it any longer.

“Rin-chan,” she began carefully, “if this is about what you saw that day in the garden—”

With a furious flash in her dark eyes, Rin cut her viciously off, “ _How could you?_  You  _know_  how I feel about Kohaku-kun! I confided in you,  _trusted_  you—and then you,  _you_...”

“Please, Rin-chan.” As her red-faced apprentice paused to catch her breath, Kagome reached out. “Just let me explain—”

“I don’t want to hear your explanations,” Rin seethed, slapping her hand aside. “I can’t stand to spend another second in your presence!”

Shouldering past, Rin continued on. Kagome’s gaze hardened after her, an image of Mayuri’s torn drowned body surfacing briefly in her mind. There was no way she could let her apprentice go off into the West alone. Knowing Sesshoumaru’s true nature, she couldn’t be certain that he wouldn’t target Rin—her familiarity and proximity might be too much for him to resist in his depravity. Only in Edo could Kagome guarantee Rin’s safety.

Striding after her, she seized her apprentice’s arm and yanked her around. “You  _will_  listen to me, Rin.” At the fierce command in her tone, the glowering younger woman shrank slightly. “What you saw that day was nothing more than a misunderstanding. I have no romantic feelings for Kohaku—I made that clear to him shortly after you left. There’s nothing between us whatsoever.”

Releasing Rin abruptly, Kagome stared her down in flinty challenge. Warily, Rin stared back, her posture relaxing a fraction at last.

“Do you promise?”

“I swear,” Kagome affirmed.

At Rin’s faint nod, the older miko turned on her heel, knowing that she had her. Eyes fixed upon the stronghold she had created, Kagome led her apprentice briskly on.

“Now,” she said to her, “we’re going home.”

In the days that followed, Kagome considered what additional measures still needed to be taken to ensure the safety of the people in her charge. Rin’s near-flight from Edo had given her cause for alarm. No matter how fortified the village was, all these defenses amounted to nothing the moment a person stepped one foot outside that circle of protection.

This concern in mind, she called an assembly of Edo’s five elders to propose a solution to the problem.

“Ye would forbid women and children from leaving the village?” Kaede surmised with a frown.

“I think it’s for the best,” Kagome replied, taking a sip of her tea. “There’s no real reason for them to venture outside the boundaries of the village—they have everything they need right here.”

“But there are particular roots and herbs the women gather from yon woods.”

“Men can gather roots just as easily as women,” Kagome countered evenly. “As for the herbs, we’ll provide them. It's safer for us to prepare the remedies the villagers need, anyway.”

Kaede fell silent at this, though her frown remained in place.

"I understand the men may need to put forth a little extra effort," Kagome continued on in her most diplomatic tone. “And of course the children won’t be able to run as wild as they’re used to—nor the women, for that matter,” she added, flashing a disarming smile as her insinuation was not lost on the gathered elders. “But I’m sure we can all agree these things are a small price to pay for added security and peace of mind.”

One thing that could generally be counted upon, Kagome had learned, was the prudishness of old people. It was a bit low of her to pander to these stuffy and often hypocritical sentiments, but these were dangerous times. The stakes were simply too high to worry over these little moral scruples.

Another thing that could  _always_  be counted upon was the motivating power of fear.  _This_  was the uniting factor, the underlying drive, that Kagome and her elders shared. This was the real reason why they would acquiesce to her line of thinking. The sugaring of self-righteousness she’d sprinkled on top would simply make her appeal more palatable for them to readily accept.

“A small price to be sure,” elder Haruko concurred at once, her permanent scowl of disapproval etching that much deeper into her wrinkled jowls.

“There be more dangers on the roads and in the wilds than rogues and demons,” elder Arata said, inclining his wispy-haired head in a sage nod of agreement.

“‘Tis true that the young ones and womenfolk oft behave too liberally—we must needs protect them from their weak natures.”

“Ye speak wisely indeed, Kagome-sama. I, too, am in favor of what ye say.”

“Thank you for your support,” Kagome said, bowing deeply.

While this decree would certainly help prevent people from straying into harm’s way, it was far from foolproof. She knew that there would still be a few rebellious villagers who’d defy it. As she parted ways with the elders, Kagome’s thoughts ran ahead, envisioning a high timbered fence not unlike the one guarding Tatsumi castle—only without any gaps for silly young girls to slip through in the night...

“Kagome, child.”

Pausing, she glanced back to find that Kaede had followed her out of elder Arata’s home. An expression of pointed concern creased the aged miko’s features.

“This notion ye’ve put forth—it strikes me as sudden and severe.”

Kagome’s lips crooked in a conciliating half-smile. “I know it may seem that way, Baa-chan. But I think a mandate like this is long overdue—and mild really, if you consider the alternative.”

Turning, she began to walk away, Kaede’s voice trailing after her in stern reproach.

“It would not be amiss, methinks, to seek the gods’ guidance in this.”

Hesitating half a step, the younger miko continued on her way to the shrine—not to pray for guidance, as Kaede had instructed, but to pay her daily respects to her departed husband.

Kagome had met enough gods— _aided_ enough gods—to know that their counsel was no better than her own best judgment. The fallibility of her brother-in-law, who was godlike enough in her estimation, only reinforced this theory. She could ask for strength, for supernatural favors even, but in navigating the dark shifting landscape of this reality, the hard truth of the matter was—

The gods were as lost as the rest of them.


	14. Rat in a Cage, Pt.2

**- Rat in a Cage -**

**Part Two**

As Kagome climbed the shrine steps toward the graveyard, she felt her soul ascend. Kneeling before Inuyasha's tomb, she closed her eyes and savored the transcendent love that lifted her heart. Perhaps the saving grace in uncovering Sesshoumaru's betrayal was that it had redoubled her devotion to her husband. She could see now that she had been in danger of straying from her marriage vows. Had she let her concealment spell slip during her stay at Tatsumi castle, had Sesshoumaru come to her in lust that night instead of Mayuri...

Kagome shuddered. In her waywardness and ignorance, she would have let the Beast himself have free rein over her. She would have ended up dead at worst and desecrated at best. Hands steepled before her, she shook her head in despair at the thought.

To her credit, she had trusted her instincts. She had held on to a thread of caution—the sort of caution Inuyasha had tried so hard to instill in her—and had discovered the truth of things. She had resisted temptation and proven herself worthy of him.  _Inuyasha_...though he had only been half human, he was the finest man she'd ever known. The finest man there  _was_ , in her convictions. A tender ache filled her heart as she remembered the warmth in his eyes, the gentle way he'd spoken to her as he'd held her in his arms.

A subtle shift in the air disturbed her.

Kagome's spine stiffened as she raised her bowed head, knowing she was not alone. A tendril of anger wound through her at the disruption of her solitude. Sharply her eyes slanted toward the shrine where Kohaku stood, studying her beneath the dappled shade of a maple tree.

"Forgive me for intruding," he said as he stepped toward her, the pattern of shadows breaking over his angled features. "I came to tell you that I've spoken with Sesshoumaru-sama. He was unable to offer any further guidance with regards to the Beast."

A bit of the tension in Kagome's shoulders eased. Confident as she was in her abilities, it was still reassuring to know that the purified detection charm had failed to trigger. Rising to her feet, she brushed the dirt and grass blades off her knees before turning fully to face him.

"I was thinking," Kohaku resumed in a softer tone, seeming to have mistaken her silence and slack posture for disappointment, "of returning to the North soon, while the weather holds. Perhaps you could come with me, and we could retrace the routes together, in case there's something I might have missed."

Kagome's lips thinned. She stood suddenly at a crossroads. Kohaku's poorly-veiled attempt to get her alone with him aside, she sensed that it wasn't wise to encourage his efforts. Who knows what he might uncover, if he continued to search for the Beast. At the risk of casting suspicion on herself, she decided that she had to put a stop to this— _now_.

"I should have told you earlier, Kohaku-kun," she said, walking over to meet him. "But there's no more need to hunt for the Beast. I've dealt with him. It's over."

Kohaku's brow creased, his dark eyes narrowing. " _Dealt_  with him." As Kagome stopped, the taijiya advanced, glaring. " _Alone?_ "

Warily, Kagome held her ground. "Yes,  _alone_ ," she snapped. "He got sloppy, and I happened to find him out."

A startled gasp escaped her as Kohaku seized her by the upper arms, his expression dark and fierce with anger.

"How could you do something so  _stupid_?" he snarled into her face, the miko wincing as he dug his fingers deeper into her flesh. "Confronting a demon like that by yourself—have you gone mad? You  _saw_  what he did to those other women. You are lucky to be alive, you fool..."

Furiously, Kagome wrenched herself out of his grasp, her eyes flashing up at him. "I'm  _nothing_  like those 'other women'!" she spat back at him in disgust. "And I'm certainly not a fool! Stop acting so tough, Kohaku. You're still just a dumb kid as far as I'm concerned, so don't you  _dare_  think you can talk down to me." As Kohaku's jaw clenched, she barreled on, "I don't need your help—I  _never_  needed it. I never needed  _anything_  from you. And in case I didn't make it clear the last time you put your hands on me, I don't  _want_  anything from you, either."

Panting, she held his searing black gaze. Rage twisted his normally handsome features, his gloved fist half-raised as if putting his hands on her again was  _exactly_  what he wanted to do. The tense seconds stretched on as they stared one another down in wordless challenge, before Kohaku turned abruptly on his heel and stormed away.

Still simmering with fury, Kagome made her way to Sango and Miroku's home a short while later. Her friends had invited her over for dinner that evening, and as much as Kagome didn't want to attend after the fight she'd with Kohaku, she figured she should honor her agreement. It wouldn't do to hide away from him, at any rate.  _She_  had done nothing wrong—he was the one who had crossed the line.

In hindsight, she should have known that there would be fallout from seducing him the way she had been forced to do. While most guys would have been happy enough to get a random handjob with no strings attached, Kohaku was different. He had  _always_  been different. So quiet, so serious—so  _intent_. Maybe it was the result of his past traumas. Or maybe it was simply his own true nature.

Beneath that calm and reserved demeanor was a depth of intense feeling Kagome had not fully appreciated, nor anticipated upon.

The fact that she had miscalculated with regards to him unnerved her. Suppressing the anxiety that accompanied such a thought, she steeled herself and continued on. It was all water under the bridge now. She needed to move forward with her plans. The safety of the village was her chief concern, outweighing all other considerations.

Sango met her at the door with a tired smile, shifting baby Komori to her hip as she welcomed Kagome inside. The miko always arrived early to these sorts of events, in order to help her often beleaguered friend with the dinner preparations. With three young children and Miroku to tend to, Sango seemed frazzled more often than not—though cheerfully so.

Kagome tried her best not to envy her friend's happiness. But it was difficult. Unfair as it was, Kagome couldn't help but feel a certain resentment toward her, and though Sango would never admit it, Kagome knew that she sensed it too. Over the years, it had driven a wedge between them. They weren't as close as they had been before. Sometimes, Kagome wondered if they ever would be again.

While Miroku held the baby and watched the twins play in the yard nearby, Kagome and Sango sat outside on the porch peeling yams and chatting. Just pleasantries, idle gossip. Nothing deeper than that. Not anymore.

When the vegetables and meat were chopped and ready, Sango went in to check on the rice. Emerging from the hut a moment later, she handed Kagome one of the clay jugs in her arms.

"I think we're going to need more water. Will you help me fetch some?"

"Of course," Kagome said, smiling as she stood up from the steps.

As Sango took the lead, it was a moment before Kagome noticed that her friend was not headed in the direction of the closest well. Rather, she was walking straight toward the edge of the woods.

Abruptly, Kagome halted in place. "Sango-chan—where are you going?"

Pausing, Sango glanced back, pointing. "To the spring just inside the forest, there. Well water is fine for cooking, but spring water has a much more pleasant taste, don't you think?"

Kagome frowned. "Didn't you hear the elders' decree? Women aren't permitted to leave the village anymore. For their own safety."

"I  _did_  hear that." Drawing to a stop at the edge of the yard, Sango turned around to face her, the corners of her mouth rising in a slight, almost furtive smile. "But I think I can take care of myself."

Anger prickled up Kagome's spine. "It isn't about what you  _think_ , Sango-chan. The woods aren't safe for women like you to wander around in."

Sango's eyes hardened. "Women like  _me_? I'm a  _taijiya_ , Kagome-chan. I'm fully capable of defending myself."

"You  _were_  a taijiya," the miko returned. "But when's the last time you went into battle? Even if you weren't out of practice, your skills have their limits. Against certain demons, you're as defenseless as any other woman—you  _know_  that." As Sango opened her mouth to argue, Kagome cut her off. "You're a mother now. You have three young children depending on you. Is getting some better tasting drinking water worth the risk of them losing you forever? Don't be so irresponsible and reckless."

Sango's jaw clicked shut, a stricken look crossing her features. Regarding her a moment longer, Kagome turned, setting an emphatic course for the well just over the hill.

After a brief delay, her friend's footsteps followed obediently along behind her.

Water jugs filled to the brim, Kagome and Sango returned to the house a few minutes later. The children had been called in from the yard, fed, and put down to bed it seemed, but Miroku remained just outside the door, watching their approach. His arms were crossed at his chest, his violet eyes hard and unsmiling as they caught Kagome's. A current of unease ran through her at the look. Shrugging it aside, she stepped past him into the kitchen, Sango trailing in her wake.

The former taijiya said hardly a word as they finished cooking dinner and setting the long low table. By then, Kaede and Rin had arrived with fresh-made sweet buns for dessert. At Sango's unusual reticence, a slight frown creased the youngest miko's features, her dark gaze flicking to her mentor in question. Deflecting the glance, Kagome seated herself at the head of the table—the lone spot she had taken to occupying at all tables, since Inuyasha's untimely death.

Miroku sat crisply down at her left—Kaede at her right. In the quiet gloom of twilight, they began to eat, already halfway through the meal by the time the heavy curtain swung back and Kohaku entered with a hesitant Kirara in tow. Involuntarily, Kagome stiffened at the waves of hostility rolling off of him, though her attention remained fixed upon the rice bowl and chopsticks in her hands.

Muttering a terse apology to his sister, the taijiya ignored the empty spaces beside her and Rin. Instead, he strode purposefully over to the foot of the table, which afforded him an unbroken line of sight for staring Kagome down. Casually, the miko placed the dish she was holding back to the table, her cool gaze locking with his as she took a sip of water from her cup. Undeterred by her silent reproach, Kohaku glared on, Rin looking between them with a deepening frown.

Inwardly, Kagome cursed at all the added tension he was creating. Next to her, Miroku sat rigid, no longer even pretending to pick at his meal.

"This new decree forbidding women from leaving the bounds of the village," the monk began, his pointed expression belying his deceptively neutral tone. "Can you tell me, Kaede-sama, what prompted the elders to put such an extreme measure in place?"

As the weight of Kaede's eyes shifted to her, Kagome set her cup down with a snap. There was no point in denying her part in this—and no need to.

"The mandate was my recommendation," the miko stated, meeting Miroku's gaze.

As if expecting this to be the case, the monk's flinty look didn't waver in the slightest. "Perhaps," he suggested, in a voice that strongly indicated otherwise, "rather than restricting the villagers' movements, the threat should be dealt with directly."

Kagome bristled. "This isn't about a particular threat, Miroku-san. It's about the general safety of the villagers."

"Yet I wonder why you are so insistent upon this now," he pressed her keenly. "If there is a demon that inspired this notion—"

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" the miko cut him off, a forbidding heat flashing in her eyes. "This isn't about any  _one_  demon. This is about the countless youkai continually striving to disrupt the peace of this place. These monsters will never stop. They'll strike given any opportunity. Just one second—one mistake, one misstep, and your whole life can be torn from you." Kagome swallowed as her voice threatened to break with emotion. "The future you envisioned for yourself—up in flames in the blink of an eye."

"Kagome, child," Kaede said, placing her wrinkled hand atop Kagome's furled slightly shaking one. "Ye cannot possibly prevent every tragedy from taking place. 'Tis better to live freely, knowing the risks, than to be bound by fear."

Sharply, Kagome withdrew her hand, looking at her elder in piercing censure. "Before I became head priestess, how many people in this region perished each year due to demonic attacks?—Dozens. And how many have died so far  _this_  year?" she demanded, answering herself swiftly in turn, " _None_." Taking up her bowl and chopsticks again, she glared around at them all. "Maybe I can't prevent every misfortune, but to not strive toward that goal would be the greatest tragedy of all. So stop questioning my judgment and just do as I say."

A heavy, brooding silence ensued. Now, not a single pair of eyes rested upon her. Even Kohaku's narrowed gaze was directed downward, the muscle of his jaw locked tight. As Kagome ate mechanically, somehow the room seemed smaller than before, the shadows denser, pressing in on her with tangible weight.

Stifled, she looked to the open door. Beyond, she could just see the distant wood, a cold bitter rage filling her heart as she stared out through the dark gaps between the trees.


	15. Ghost Girl

**- Ghost Girl -**

As the days passed, Kagome reflected on her actions and the motivations behind them. Reexamining her last encounter with Sesshoumaru, she conceded that she may have overreacted in the wake of learning the horrifying truth. Her brother-in-law had never preyed on the women of Edo before. It seemed particularly unlikely that he would do so now—even if he hadn't enthusiastically agreed to Kagome's demands.

The aftershocks of his betrayal had left her shaken. But she could remember now the perfect calm and clarity of focus, the pure power that had radiated from her as she'd forbid Sesshoumaru from killing again. This was  _true_  control. It was this strength of will that would protect the people of her village, and all others, from the savagery of the Beast.

It rankled her now, to think that in her ensuing distress she had sought to cage Edo in against him. If anyone deserved to be caged, it was  _him_. Still, he was far from the only demon that threatened the safety of the village. To put measures of protection in place was still a worthy aim. The others would come to see this too, in time.

In the spirit of compromise, she went to the elders and amended the overly-restrictive decree: Now, only venturing outside the village after dark was forbidden. Kaede in particular found this to be a more agreeable rule. After apologizing to the elder miko for her recent rudeness, Kagome made similar apologies to Rin, Sango and Miroku—who were all mollified to receive them.

The only one she had yet to approach was Kohaku.

After two more days, Kagome felt that she'd put off this confrontation for as long as she could. As difficult as it would be to face him after what she'd said and done, she was compelled to at least attempt to end the discord between them. It didn't sit well with her to see how visibly he still opposed her. Nor for others to see it, either.

Mustering her courage, Kagome made her way toward his home on the outskirts of Edo. As she crested the last sloping hill, she saw him out in the yard below, chopping wood. The sight of him shirtless with axe in hand almost made her lose her nerve, but his sharp eyes had already seen her. There was no turning back now.

Hidden away in her flowing sleeves, her fingers curled to fists as she descended toward him, but he didn't glance up at her again. Even as she drew to a stop just before the stump he was splitting logs upon, he still refused to acknowledge her. His mouth was a hard thin line, his long dark hair bound at the nape. Beads of sweat ran freely down the muscles of his arms, chest and shoulders, his normally neat bangs messily spiked and skewed across his brow. Kagome tried not to flinch as he brought the axe down again in a heavy, brutal cleave.

"Kohaku-kun," she began in a tone she'd carefully rehearsed, in order not to sound overly soft in expressing her contrition. "I wanted to apologize to you, for the way I spoke to you the last time we talked. The whole ordeal with the Beast had taken more of a toll on me than I'd realized, but there's no excuse for my behavior. I was cruel to you, and I'm very sorry. I hope you can forgive me."

For a while, Kohaku continued chopping, as though he hadn't heard her. Faintly, a vein began to pulse in Kagome's temple. Resisting the urge to lash out at him for his insolence, she turned away and started back toward the village—the sudden sound of the axe thudding point-first into the stump arresting her.

"So," the taijiya said coolly behind her, "your apology tour has finally circled around to me. You've won them all over with your penitence act, haven’t you?—I'll admit, it's convincing."

Incensed, Kagome whipped around to face him. "It isn't an act. But if you don't want to accept my apology, that's fine."

With the slow measured gait of a predator, Kohaku stalked toward her. It took everything Kagome had not to look or back away from the intentness in his gaze.

"I wonder," he said lowly, "which one is the real you. Is it the priestess, the widow," he asked, punctuating each guess with another advancing step, "the temptress, the tyrant? You wear so many masks it's difficult to tell—except that you're hiding... _something_."

Kagome tensed, paling. "Why are you saying these things? You're not making any sense..."

A foot away from her, Kohaku drew to a stop. His keen dark eyes held hers as he loomed above her, the wild ferocity of his expression, of his scent and of his presence unsettling her to the core. Slightly she shook as he reached out, his finger denting a burning path along her cheek.

"I forgive you, Kagome," he murmured, "but I'll never see you the same way again. You aren't the person I thought you were."

Still frozen speechless, she watched as he stepped back, his hand falling from her face to his hip. As he unclipped the glass vial and offered it to her, she looked slowly from it to him in question.

"Since the killer has been slain, there's no point in holding on to this any longer," he explained, his eyes focused and shrewd. "You can purify it now."

Tightly, Kagome swallowed, her fingers clutching around the nullified detection charm. If she applied her reiki to it now, nothing would happen. Kohaku had seen her purify the killing ground—he would know the difference.

"Later," she replied at last, slipping the vial into her sleeve. "I'm not feeling up to it at the moment."

The taijiya nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. Even as she headed back toward the village, she could still feel the heat of his eyes, searing into her back.

Returning to her home, Kagome peered over her shoulder to make sure she hadn't been followed before slipping into the woods just beyond the garden and emptying the contents of the vial out upon the ground. The unremarkable dirt, though a shade darker than the rest, blended easily enough away beneath the sweep of her sandaled foot. Tossing the small flask off into the wilderness, she imagined she heard the tinny sound of glass shattering in the distance, as she turned and walked back to her house.

Her interaction with Kohaku had left her deeply unsettled. That he was suspicious of her was unquestionable—but how much did he _truly_ know? Kagome couldn't be sure, but she also couldn't assume that he actually knew anything. Maybe he'd simply been watching her to see if she would give something away.

He had certainly put her in a tight spot with that vial. Kagome's jaw clenched even now at how narrowly he had cornered her. The extent to which she'd passed or failed whatever test he'd forced her into remained to be seen. But as she paced, her heated blood continuing to pound in her ears, she reassured herself with the knowledge that the evidence she had given him was all purely circumstantial—and nothing that would point back to her brother-in-law.

Sesshoumaru wouldn't be killing any more women. With no more ravaged bodies showing up, whatever suspicions Kohaku might have concerning the Beast would have to subside.

"The threat's been contained," she reminded herself quietly, as she clasped her trembling hands together in her lap and stared into the hearth's twisting flames.

Barely tasting the lunch she'd made, Kagome joined up with Rin afterward to tend to some ailing villagers. As she left the sick family's home a short while later, Kagome heard a curious scuffling off to her right, but when she looked toward the source of the sound, no one was there. Eyes narrowed, the miko continued on to the shrine, where a pair of traveling monks were waiting to exchange news and knowledge with her and Miroku over tea. After seeing them off and parting ways with her friend, Kagome headed alone to the graves as usual, a brief glimpse of color through the trees allaying her doubts that she was simply being paranoid or jumpy— _someone_ was definitely following her.

And they were doing a pretty poor job of hiding it.

Pretending not to have noticed all the same, she went about attending to the rest of the day's activities. As the sun began to descend, she set a course for home once more, the presence who had been shadowing her footsteps since noon trailing predictably along after her. Senses attuned, she could pinpoint the source and pattern of the whispered movements behind her. Approaching the edge of the village proper, where the gap between adjacent huts would be too large to quickly bridge, she turned suddenly around to confront her stalker.

Frozen mid-step, a teenaged girl about Rin's age stared back at her with no small amount of trepidation. Clothed in a dingy worn yukata she had clearly outgrown some years ago, the waiflike figure hunched over in a shabby approximation of a bow, her wide overlarge eyes peeking hesitantly up at Kagome through the limp stringy fringe of her bangs.

"...Kagome-sama," the waif hailed her breathlessly from the shadows.

The miko frowned at the address. From the first glance, there had been something vaguely, disturbingly familiar about this girl, but it was the sound of her voice which revealed at last what the low, fading light had obscured of her appearance. With a sick sinking feeling, Kagome remembered the name of her pursuer.

And the face of the dead.

"...Kanako," she slowly said.

"Y-you," the girl stammered out in a hushed, reverent tone, her bulging eyes protruding that much farther, "you remember me..."

In truth, it was the _name_ that Kagome had remembered—the name of a victim she had sworn never to forget. The name of the spirit who had led her to the killing ground, who had led her down the path toward the _truth_.

It was only by bitter coincidence, by some twisted irony of nature, that Kagome knew the girl standing before her now. Plain to the point of being completely unrecognizable, this Kanako was the one she had met in the squalid fishing village outside of Tatsumi castle. If not for that unforgettable name, Kagome would have struggled to recall anything about her—despite how vividly the image of discovering Mayuri's corpse was seared into her memories.

Memories that were now welling up—sharp-edged images of horror, rising afresh from the depths of her mind.

"What are you doing here?" the miko demanded, not bothering to soften her tone. "Why have you been following me?"

Flinching, the waif met her gaze. "I learned your name, at the castle," she replied, moistening her thin, dry lips. "I learned that you were here, and so I came—to see you."

Kagome's eyes hardened. The girl had a cagey way of speaking which the miko took an intense dislike to—in addition to Kanako's overall sneaky, skulking manner.

"Tell me _directly_ what you want from me, Kanako."

A visible, almost obscene shiver wracked the girl, the sight making Kagome's skin crawl. "They said that she—the dead woman—was to be your novice..." Abruptly, Kanako collapsed in a miserable bony heap. "Please, Kagome-sama—take me in her stead!"

Kagome stepped toward her in the gathering dusk. Perhaps the only thing less remarkable than Kanako's appearance was her soul—a weak, common thing. Attempting to tap reiki from it would be like trying to draw water from a rock.

"I'm sorry you came all this way," the miko said, "but you're not cut out to be a priestess, Kanako-chan." At the girl's wounded look, Kagome shook her head. "There's no shame in it. Only a few men and women are born with the ability."

A gift and a curse, Kagome reflected as she began to turn away—frail spindly fingers clasping at her feet.

"Please, Kagome-sama, I beg you—let me serve you!"

Sighing wearily, Kagome glanced down, stepping out of the girl's prying hold. "I don't need a servant, Kanako-chan. I'm a miko _—_ not a daimyo. Go home to your grandfather and brother now."

"I cannot go back, Kagome-sama—there is nothing for me there! Worse than nothing. They will think I ran off with an outsider, with a man. They will lash me, Kagome-sama...they will lash me for whoring, and they will drive me out, with curses and whips and stones!"

Seized by fear, Kanako's whole body shuddered, the whites of her eyes huge and glaring as her panicked gaze roved over Kagome's face. The miko was not unfamiliar with such brutish village practices. In all likelihood, what Kanako said was true. Still, she was far from Kagome's responsibility. There were plenty of convents that would take the girl in, or help her get established elsewhere. As Kagome opened her mouth to tell her this, Kanako's pleading voice cut her off.

"Please, Kagome-sama...take me under your protection. Please, do not send me away."

Her plaintive words gave Kagome pause, her brow creasing as she looked upon the waif anew. Here was a frightened and defenseless girl, begging for sanctuary. Another Kanako, another chance for Kagome to save a young woman who might very well otherwise fall prey to the whims of some dark, violent creature.

Was it truly a coincidence that their paths had crossed? A mirage of order in the chaos, or another thread in the pattern of destiny?

“Come on,” the miko said as she resumed her course at last. “My home’s this way. I’ll fix you something to eat—you’re nothing but skin and bones.”

With Kanako following close on her heels, Kagome returned to her house at the edge of the village. After hanging back at the doorway, the waif crept haltingly forward, Kagome paying her little mind as she set about making dinner. Kanako was so silent and unnoticeable that by the time Kagome took the kettle off the fire, she’d almost forgotten that her strange visitor was even there. It was with an eerie, phantom prickle that she turned and caught sight of the girl staring out at her from the shadowed corner of the hut.

Sitting with her knees bent at sharp angles before her, Kanako had been watching her as if entranced. Round and faintly luminous in the low light, her pale grey eyes had a fishy silver cast to them, the translucent whiteness of her skin completing the image of something that had crawled its way up, low and grasping, from the murky, sunless depths of the Kiso river. That Kanako had been malnourished and downtrodden from birth was starkly apparent, and Kagome felt her unease give way to pity as she beckoned the girl over to her.

“Come and eat, Kanako-chan.”

By Feudal standards, the Edo region was richly prosperous, owing to the sanctity which had historically kept nefarious forces at bay. It was easy for Kagome to forget, especially after her prolonged isolation, just how miserable the lives of most mortals were. Plagued by bloodthirsty youkai and warlords alike, poor villagers’ existences were often short, brutal and bleak.

This was the way of the world, and although Kagome despised it, what could she do? The powerful preyed upon the weak. Destroying the Shikon no Tama hadn’t changed that. Nothing would _ever_ change that. Even in her own time, this fact remained true.

All she could do was use her power to protect those closest to her. This was what her past failings had taught her. This was what she knew, yet the child in her heart grieved for the forsaken multitudes, and longed to save them still.

On timid footsteps Kanako approached Kagome’s outstretched hand, and the miko thought to herself that surely, surely she could protect one more.

Just this one soul more.

“Here,” she said, handing the waif a bowl of steaming stew.

The girl slurped the contents like an animal, her thin grubby fingers scraping the last few vegetable remnants from the bottom and sides. When Kagome offered up the better half of her portion as well, Kanako gazed at her in weepy rapture.

“You are so noble, Kagome-sama—so good,” the girl mumbled as she ate, muddy tears tracking down her hollow, dusty cheeks. “No one would look at the dead woman. No one would touch her. No one knew what to do with her. But _you_ looked at her, and _you_ touched her. _You_ knew what to do with her, Kagome-sama.”

The too-bright points in her eyes glowed like marsh lights in the gloom. Setting her jaw against the onslaught of sickening memory the girl's words evoked, Kagome resisted the impulse to glance away. “What became of her,” she asked tersely, “after I left?”

The waif blinked, uncanny and slow. “They burned and buried her, proper.” Lowering her empty bowl, Kanako leaned in, her reedy voice falling to a breathless, lurid whisper. “And _after_...they strung up the fat woman and fed her to the crows.”

Kagome went rigid, looking at her in sharp bewilderment—and rising dread. As though she could scarcely contain herself, Kanako babbled on.

“You _knew_ , Kagome-sama. You could see what a foul murderess she was. How wondrous you were, as you revealed her wickedness—like a goddess from heaven in your holy wrath! Everyone could see it, after that. One by one, they came forward to accuse her. And so the lord had her thrashed, and hanged, and left to rot—as well she deserved.”

Bile simmered in Kagome's throat. Swallowing weakly, she turned away, tucking the fists that had beaten Koharu into a bloody monstrosity out of sight in her long snowy sleeves.

“...Kagome-sama?”

“You can sleep at the shrine for now,” the miko said in a strained tone. “I’ll fetch you in the morning.”

Long after Kanako had slipped away into the night, Kagome lay sleepless in her lonely bed, thinking of the Beast, and the ghosts between them.


	16. Bait and Switch

**- Bait and Switch -**

The next morning, having little else to do with her, Kagome tasked Kanako with assisting Rin in her duties. As the days passed, however, it became clear that the younger miko was about as happy to be burdened with the waif as Kagome was.

“She doesn’t mind what I say,” Rin complained to her a few weeks later. “She's always either staring off into space or pestering me with questions about you.”

“Try to be patient with her,” Kagome replied tiredly as she tested the curative they were making. “She hasn’t had much of an upbringing.”

“Why is she even here?” Rin pressed, giving her head an irritable shake. “I still don’t understand it.”

Kagome frowned, but didn’t reply. A few minutes later, Kanako burst into the hut, a shower of dirt falling from the roots clutched in her skeletal fingers. Despite Kaede's attempts to put some more meat on the girl’s bones, Kanako seemed to possess the sort of poor constitution that would always leave her looking wasted and frail.

“Kagome-sama! I have brought the herbs you requested,” the waif exclaimed breathlessly as she scampered over, Rin glowering at her from Kagome’s side.

“Thanks, Kanako-chan,” the miko said offhand as she accepted the bruised, dirty plants. “I think another handful should do the trick.”

“Yes, Kagome-sama—I will fetch it right away!”

As the girl hastened from the dwelling, Rin turned toward her mentor with arms crossed and brow arched. “Well, she certainly has no trouble minding _you_ , Kagome-chan. The way she acts,” Rin muttered, somewhat snidely, “reminds me of Jakken-sama.”

Kagome stiffened, any allusions to Sesshoumaru putting her that much more on edge. Between her raging hormones, the summer fever rampaging through the village, and the month since Mayuri’s murder hurtling to an ominous end, the miko's nerves were wearing wire-thin.

“I’ll finish up here,” she said shortly to her apprentice. “You can go home.”

“...Alright then,” Rin said, glancing uncertainly at Kagome as she took her leave.

The moment Kanako returned from her errand, Kagome advanced swiftly upon her. The waif quailed as the miko snatched up the roots and fixed her with a reproving glare.

“Rin-chan says you’ve been giving her trouble.”

Kanako crumpled at Kagome’s feet. Pale bulbous eyes pivoted up in pleading, the girl's bloodless lower lip quivering. “She is cruel to me, Kagome-sama! She yells at me and strikes me—she hates me I am sure!”

“I don’t have time for this,” Kagome bit out, wrenching the hem of her hakama from Kanako’s desperate grasp as she turned back toward the fire. “Stop misbehaving and do as she says.”

“Please, Kagome-sama—let me assist you instead!” Kanako rasped as she crawled after her. “I will be useful to you, I swear it!”

Kagome grit her teeth at this familiar and tiresome refrain. She had even less use for Kanako than Rin did—particularly now, when her mental and spiritual preparations were consuming the bulk of her attention.

"Go and apologize to Rin-chan," she said sternly, rounding upon the waif when she whimpered in protest. " _Now_."

As Kanako slunk grudgingly away, Kagome released a low breath of frustration. Sweeping her hand through her long tousled bangs, she finished the fever remedy with a burst of reiki and took the kettle off the fire to cool. By the time she'd delivered the curative to the afflicted, the sun had long since set. Trudging back to her home in the near-total darkness, she collapsed rather than sat before the trunk at the far wall and with shaking fingers, extracted Tessaiga.

For a while, she held the sword to her heart and listened. Though it did not brood to her as it had to Inuyasha, she imagined she could still feel it resonating with the low, portentous thrum that had settled in her bones. Her whole body ached, but this sensation was different—deeper. More than an intuition—

A _knowing_.

And so, when she felt the subtle darkening of the air, when she felt her blood run cold and the boundaries of her reiki barrier warp beneath invisible winds of demonic power, she was as prepared as she could possibly be. Stowing Tessaiga reverently away, Kagome took up her weapons and went out to meet her dead husband's brother.

As she descended the porch steps to the yard, there was a scurry beneath the deck—too large of a movement to be a raccoon or some other nocturnal pest. Nocking an arrow, the miko whirled around, her breath catching in her throat. From the shadows between two wooden support posts, a pair of wide, silver-grey eyes peered out at her, the sight giving the miko a frightful start.

" _Kanako-chan_ ," she hissed, her lowered bow shaking in her furious hold. "Get out of there right now!"

Fearfully, the girl scrambled forth, dirt glaring from her wan skin and clothes. "Kagome-sama..." she said, blinking slowly, "where are you going?"

"Never mind that," the miko snapped as she put her weapons away. "What in Kami's name were you doing, hiding under my porch?"

Kanako's loose, scraggly braid swayed like a frayed rope as she shifted. "...I sleep there, sometimes."

"Well, stop it," Kagome ground out, pointing heatedly in the direction of the village. "Go back to the shrine _._ "

The waif hesitated, her nervous gaze trailing between Kagome and the forest's edge. "But, Kagome-sama—"

" _Go._ "

Breathing hard through the vise of her teeth, Kagome glared after Kanako's retreating form until it was well out of sight. As if she didn't have enough to contend with...

Determined to give the waif a proper scolding tomorrow, the miko took a moment to collect herself before turning on her heel and striding into the woods. About a half-mile in, she saw him at last—his still ivory figure contrasting sharply with the fluid darkness of the surrounding trees. Youki simmered faintly around him as he turned, pinning her with his reflective stare.

"So," Sesshoumaru said, "you have locked me out."

Crossing her arms, Kagome halted in place. "I told you that you weren't welcome here."

His expression sharpened as he stepped toward her, an instinctive tension coiling within her at his soundless approach. It was unnerving and surreal, to be near him once again. He was so composed, so regal—borderline angelic. Seeing him like this, she struggled even now to reconcile him with the savage killer who had ravaged all those poor girls to their graves.

"You would keep me from Rin," he stated, a rumble of challenge underscoring his words. "She is my ward."

Anger flared in Kagome's eyes. "Is that why you've come here—to see 'your ward'?"

Sesshoumaru stopped just before her, his gaze darkening as he held her own. And now she could see it—now she could _feel it_. A phantom touch that lingered just above her toes, chilling her even now.

"You know why I have come here, little sister."

Kagome set her jaw at the gibe, willing her heart to stop hammering so erratically in her chest. It was an effort that went to nothing as he reached out and skimmed his knuckles along the curve of her breast.

For a split-second, Kagome was too shocked to say or do anything. Then the tide of her outrage came crashing in. Her features twisted viciously as she jerked back—Sesshoumaru snarling at the sudden, violent surge of her reiki.

" _You—_ " she seethed, her power crackling rose-white in the space between them. "How _dare_ you touch me like that..."

Leaves rustled and branches creaked as Sesshoumaru's youki churned the air, the stir of his agitation mirroring her own. "If there is a way to fuck you without doing so, it is unknown to me."

Kagome shrank at the cold vitriol in his tone—even as her blood scalded in indignation. Since the moment she'd spotted him, she'd sensed that something was visibly off-kilter about him. Narrowing her eyes, she glared into his own bristling stare. It had been over a month now, since Mayuri. Trust Sesshoumaru to have abstained to this point of frustration of sheer spite.

She only wished that her own monthly cycle hadn't drawn out for so long this time. The cocktail of hormones coursing through her veins certainly wasn't helping her maintain the sort of level head she so desperately needed right now.

"I said I would _check_ you, Sesshoumaru—not fuck you," she responded through gritted teeth.

As her brother-in-law regarded her in dark, stony silence, Kagome stepped briskly past him, looking toward the north. Hands on her hips, she glanced back at him with cutting impatience.

"There's a brothel a few miles this way," she said shortly, turning north again. "I'll hire a girl for you and stick around to make sure things don't get too out of hand. Now, let's go."

Before she could take another step forward, his steely voice cut her off—

"No."

Kagome turned back to him with a glare of contempt. Her insides cinched at the feral intensity in his gaze—an intensity that heightened as he closed the distance between them.

"The woman must be to my liking," he said, the low timbre of his voice making her numb fingers curl to fists. "My choosing."

A cloud of shimmering youki gathered beneath his boots. As his clawed hand beckoned to her, Kagome stepped warily up beside him, taking a reluctant hold of his sleeve. A startled gasp escaped her as they lurched through the air, his arm catching her around the waist to steady her. Blood rushed to Kagome's cheeks, pounded in her ears at the press of his fingers against her stomach, the fine points of his nails pricking her through her clothes.

Pushing back against the cold rigid surface of his armor, she forced her thoughts away from his disturbing closeness. "I assume you have someone in mind?"

Sesshoumaru looked down at her, his slit pupils dragging slowly over her face before returning to the sky ahead.

"Always," he said.

Kagome scowled. _Of course_ Sesshoumaru had prospects lined up—probably a whole year’s worth or more. She certainly wouldn’t put it past him. Her lips thinned as she tore her eyes away from his face in disgust. He really _was_ an absolute dog.

The moment his youki cloud touched down in the Western Lands, Kagome broke free from his grip with an infuriated huff. Glancing distrustfully around at the silvered pine forest they'd landed in, she settled her flinty gaze upon him.

“Where the hell are we? This place looks like the middle of nowhere.”

Moving toward her, Sesshoumaru returned her dark look with interest. “Precisely.”

Kagome’s hackles rose at his loaded tone, her hand reaching reflexively for her bow. “You must _really_ be itching to get purified, Sesshoumaru,” she growled out. “Eastern Lands, Western...try forcing yourself on me again, and not even the gods’ll be able to help you piece your cock back together.”

A muscle flexed in the sharp line of his jaw. “How is it,” he asked lowly, approaching her still, “that you intend to ‘check’ me?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” the miko snapped in reply. “Now tell me exactly what it is we’re doing here—before I go back to assuming the worst.”

Sesshoumaru stopped, glancing to the right. “There is a village just beyond these woods. I will find the woman and bring her here—unless you would rather cause a stir.”

Kagome flushed in annoyance. Obviously she didn’t expect him to rut with this woman in the village square. Relaxing her guard a fraction, she nodded tersely in agreement. As Sesshoumaru began to turn away, she called out after him—

“Just a minute.”

The daiyoukai paused, Kagome slipping her hands beneath the neck of her haori. Ignoring the way his eyes followed the outline of her searching fingers, she grasped the beads of Inuyasha’s rosary and lifted them up over her head. Sesshoumaru’s gaze narrowed slightly in recognition.

“Put this on,” she said, extending the necklace toward him.

Sesshoumaru made no move to accept it. “You wish to collar me, as you did my brother.”

“That’s right,” Kagome replied in a clipped voice. “Although I’d say you need it a lot more than he ever did.”

“And if I refuse?”

The miko shrugged as she tossed it toward him. “Suit yourself.”

Sesshoumaru phased from view—but the beads were just as fast. Spelled to his youki signature, they glowed bright green as they split and hurtled after him, rejoining with a sealing flash around his throat. Fuming, Sesshoumaru rounded upon her—a warning pulse of reiki through the beads shocking him still with a snarl.

The cut of his eyes toward her was pure, seething murder. " _Kagome_..."

Shaking her head a little, the miko stepped toward him. "It wasn't a request. Not that you're in any position to negotiate, anyway." As he attempted to rip the necklace off, she set her hands on her hips and continued, "If you're worried about how this'll affect your _lordly_ image, you can wear the beads beneath your clothes. You just can't lift them past your chin."

Despite her outward nonchalance, Kagome's nerves were still firing with adrenaline. She'd spent the past few weeks reworking Inuyasha's rosary to contain Sesshoumaru. While she'd made every effort to overcompensate for the vast difference in their demonic power, it'd still been guesswork at best. Her main goal was to use the beads as a means of distance discipline—applying just enough of a tempering influence to keep the Beast at bay. The thought of using them to _truly_ subjugate her brother-in-law seemed far-fetched, but at least for now the beads were holding—that was a good sign. Hopefully, between this and her bluffing, he would stop trying to prise them apart.

As she gave the shock collar another chastising jolt, Sesshoumaru relented, shoving the necklace away with a scathing glare. "You are enjoying this."

"Please," Kagome scoffed, forcing her features into a neutral expression. "Nothing about any of this is 'enjoyable' to me." Her arms slanted across her chest as she looked at him in cool disdain. "Now, are you going to get that woman or not?"

Staring at her a beat too long for her liking, Sesshoumaru turned, heading in the direction of the supposed village.

"Wait here."

After pacing around for a little while, Kagome sat down on a moss-covered boulder to wait. As the minutes ticked by—first in a trickle and then by the handful—her impatience steadily mounted, along with her doubts. What if Sesshoumaru had simply left her here? He'd certainly been pissed off about that necklace...

Her fingers drummed on the rough pitted surface of the stone. If he'd ditched her, there'd be hell to pay. But would he really go so far as to do that—to outright abandon and defy her? Maybe he would. Maybe he'd already taken that woman away somewhere. He might be having his way with her right now, while Kagome sat here waiting like a fool.

Slipping angrily off the boulder, the miko extended her spiritual senses—preparing to track him down—when with a start, she detected him close-by, and drawing closer still. Kagome wandered a few steps ahead, her eyes widening at the soft ivory radiance that lit the wilderness like a lantern’s glow. Wreathed in this pale luminescence, Sesshoumaru appeared, his burnished gold eyes arresting her own.

Kagome's mouth ran dry. He was a handsome creature, but she had never seen him look like _this_ before. His hair was a feathery halo of platinum silk, his skin glowing like marble inlaid with sapphire and slashes of ruby red. The fur cascading from his shoulder teemed with a velvety white light—a light that suffused the rest of his celestial form in mesmerizing, otherworldly brilliance. Before she fully realized it, Kagome was moving toward him, her heartbeat slow and leaden, as though she had discovered him in a dream.

The clamor of her instincts was a distant nuisance as she stepped into the shining circle of his arms, heat pooling her belly at the tantalizing warmth of his touch. Her lashes lowered, her lips parting as his sculpted mouth fell to hers, the ghost of his breath over her damp, tingling skin shocking her at last from her stupor. Her palm cracked hard against his cheek as she reeled from his hold, Sesshoumaru dropping his glamour with a heavy frown.

Kagome stumbled back a few steps more, her stinging hand flying out against a tree branch to brace her. "You...you tried to _seduce_ me!" Rage robbed her temporarily of her voice, her eyes shooting daggers into his as her pounding chest continued to heave. "Don't you _ever_ do that to me again, Sesshoumaru—do you hear me?"

Frowning still, the daiyoukai glanced briefly over his shoulder. "She is coming."

Quickly, Kagome straightened. Beyond him, a path of misty, ethereal light still glowed, a slight feminine form materializing through the shimmering haze. Scrambling back behind the tree, the panting miko hid herself away, clamping a hand over her nose and mouth before peering around the trunk again.

Dark eyes as wide and glazed as saucers gazed up at Sesshoumaru from a pretty, heart-shaped young face. The miko was surprised and somewhat irritated to see that the so-called 'woman' her brother-in-law had picked out was in fact a teenaged girl—certainly no older than Kagome herself had been when she'd first arrived in the Feudal Era. Though her cheeks were flushed with nervousness, the girl was clearly still enraptured, appearing almost on the verge of intoxication as she continued to behold the demon lord. Having just been subjected to Sesshoumaru's seduction spell herself, Kagome could attest to the strength of it, her thoughts souring as she imagined him using it on Mayuri and all the others as well. Such a low, dirty tactic—and overkill, besides.

Gritting her teeth, Kagome watched him as he studied the girl in turn, his attitude oddly unenthusiastic for someone looking to get laid. Knowing his subtle expressions better than most, Kagome could see that he actually seemed vaguely annoyed, the slightest furrow of his brows betraying the sentiment. The girl was oblivious to all of this, of course. A small shivery gasp of pleasure escaped her as he cut loose the tie at her nape and ran his claws briskly through her unbound raven hair.

If this girl wasn't a virgin, Kagome didn't know who was. Her sleeve twisted in her clenching fingers as the girl continued to gasp and tremble beneath Sesshoumaru's dispassionate caresses, the silencing slant of his mouth against hers almost a welcome relief. Until his lips began to move. A brick of lead seemed to settle in the miko's stomach as she watched him kiss her, the girl's clumsy attempts to reciprocate betraying her total lack of experience.

This was wrong on so many levels, Kagome didn't even know where to start. All she could do was stand there frozen as her brother-in-law took this poor girl's first kiss—first everything. It was a sickness that deepened when his eyes opened suddenly toward Kagome herself, the miko's breath stilting as his look darkened and his tongue plunged its way into the girl's unsuspecting mouth.


	17. A Rock and a Hard Place

**- A Rock and a Hard Place -**

Kagome dug her nails into the rough, craggy tree bark. Holding her gaze all the while, Sesshoumaru plundered the girl’s open mouth, the points of his fangs glaring stark white as he raked and thrust his tongue inside her. Wide brown eyes glistened in shock, the girl’s fists curling helplessly against his armored chest as she whimpered.

Even as a married woman, this oral onslaught struck Kagome as excessive and obscene. Tearing her eyes away from the gratuitous display, the miko ducked back behind the pine tree a moment to get her bearings. After taking a deep, steadying breath, she re-emerged to find that Sesshoumaru’s mouth had descended to the girl’s throat, and his searing eyes were thankfully closed once more.

It was a moment of relief that evaporated in quick succession—as he ripped open the front of the girl’s yukata and bared half her chest to the air. Clutching at his shoulders, the teenager released a short startled cry at this sudden exposure. Her nipple peaked between the squeezing cage of his claws, a high-pitched moan tearing from her throat as he dipped his head and rasped his tongue over her puckered flesh.

Kagome's stomach clenched as his eyes met hers again, piercing and intent. Flicking the girl's overwrought nipple once more, he sliced apart her obi, catching hold of her retreating hip as she shyly attempted to hide her naked sex from his view. Releasing Kagome at last from his stare, Sesshoumaru freed the girl's imprisoned breast, his claws scoring lightly down the flinching plane of her stomach before shoving her to the ground.

The miko pressed her palm briefly to her brow, shielding her eyes as she heavily breathed. This was proving harder to watch than she'd anticipated. Her shoulders tensed at the dampened sound of armor clanging to the needle-strewn earth, the girl's anxious panting shaming Kagome back into action. Steeling herself, she dropped her hand from her face and resumed her wary vigil.

Naked from the waist up, Sesshoumaru had turned his partner so that her back was to Kagome—the miko’s path of vision perfectly aligned with the face he'd buried between the girl's quivering thighs. Lying prone beneath him, she gasped and convulsed like a fish on land, straining against the claws that fixed her inescapably in place. The miko could see little more than the small dark thatch of her curls, but from the way her hips were bucking and jerking, Kagome had a pretty good idea of just what Sesshoumaru was doing to her—and where.

The girl's eyes were misty and wild, a riot of confusion and arousal that Kagome recognized keenly. Brimming in that tumultuous look was a strange and new sort of terror, enticing and alarming all at once. She remembered her first time with Inuyasha—even slowed and softened by love, nothing could have prepared her for the raw, visceral shock of those sensations.

It was a profound mystery, how fear could turn to pleasure. Women in particular seemed wired for it. Riveted, Kagome watched this transformation unfold before her eyes, the girl's frightened whines mellowing to breathy groans. The hips that had shirked from Sesshoumaru now began to seek him, to strive toward something that was still abstract and intangible in her mind. The barest shadow of an idea—a goal without form or substance, which became clear only by achieving it. But Kagome could see the comprehension dawning in her eyes, hear it in the hitch of her breath—as Sesshoumaru broke from her and dashed his claws against a sunken stone.

His deadly long nails blunted with a spark. Cupping her with one hand, he silenced her with the other, the girl's eyes screwing shut as she was forced to swallow back her frustrated moans. Lips still gleaming wet with her juices, Sesshoumaru glared straight ahead as he bent and flexed his invading fingers, plying both women apart at the seams.

Torn, Kagome stared back at him. Her cramped fingers seized at the collar of her haori.

No, her first time had been nothing like this.

Diamond droplets glittered from the girl's shuttered lashes. Wracked with tension, her body jolted uncontrollably beneath Sesshoumaru's aggressive probing. Kagome could almost feel the girl's virgin walls being stretched, her untapped tightness being tested. At the first shallow circuit of his finger, it was _she_  who gasped at his knuckles' telling gleam, the bite of her tongue far too late to mask the slip of sound from him. Like a flip being switched, heat flared into his eyes, the girl arching off the ground as he plunged his fingers into her to the hilt.

It took every ounce of restraint Kagome had not to shout along with her. Stifling her own voice, the miko watched paralyzed as the demon lord extracted his hand, the proof of the girl's innocence glaring red between his fingers. Regarding his sister-in-law a moment more, he closed his eyes and licked the blood away in a series of slow, indulgent swipes.

Cold fury rose within Kagome at the sight. She should have neutered him when she’d had the chance. Reiki simmered beneath her skin, threatened to bleed from her white-knuckled fingers. As his touch returned to the yielding spread of his partner's thighs, the miko felt herself moving forward—before the languid, backward fall of the girl's head arrested her.

And now Kagome was witnessing an even greater mystery. As Sesshoumaru plumbed and stroked, the girl ground awkwardly back into his cruel elegant hand, her doe-brown eyes broadcasting the sheer bliss that was ebbing through her, as her pain subsided and his palm fell from her mouth at last.

“Do you like it?” he demanded, rotating his fingers inside her.

“Y-yes!” she gasped, her narrow hips pushing spastically back against him.

"Tell me how much."

"So—so much, my lord!"

"... _Gods_ ," Kagome grumbled under her breath, her blood pressure ticking up another notch.

Almost faster than she could see, the daiyoukai promptly stripped off his boots and hakama, until the rosary around his neck was all that he wore. Her breath hitched at the sight of his cock fully exposed. Huge and darkly engorged, it rose before her, its tip faintly weeping as he locked his eyes with hers yet again. The girl tossed her head and groaned as he removed his fingers and leveled the head of his sex against her.

“And this?” he said with a smirk, pushing into her barely. “Do you like _this_?”

The girl cried out at the penetration, nodding weakly as he continued to swirl his fingertips over her hypersensitive clit. Blood draining from her face, Kagome clung to a nearby tree branch for support.

“Beg me for it,” he growled, cutting his eyes back to his bleary partner. “Beg me to feed you my cock.”

“Please,” she gasped, as Kagome braced her aching brow against the branch and glared. “P-please, my lord—”

“Please, _what_.”

“F-feed me your...”

“ _My_ ,” he pressed ruthlessly, flexing his hips against her as he fondled her sex.

“Your cock!” the girl choked out as he brought her violently over, her eyes streaming from the force of her release. “Feed me your cock, my lord—please! _Please!_ ”

The girl's back bowed taut, her lips parting in a silent cry as Sesshoumaru hauled her back against him—impaling her halfway upon him. So much for 'feeding', Kagome thought venomously as he began to work the teenager over him, her orgasm extending as he used her body to polish the upward angle of his cock. Stiff as a board, the teenager's bent spine shook like a tuning fork at every twisting plunge, the nails of her curved fingers scraping audibly against the flinty ground.

Kagome was finding it difficult to stand, to even breathe. She wanted to stop him—she wanted to make this stop. But he wasn't hurting that girl. He was just fucking her—like they'd agreed. If Kagome shocked him, _she_ would be the one out of line.

Still, when he rose on his knees before her, dragging the teenager's body up with him, when he fit her legs to the hard planes of his chest and held her lower half almost vertical against him, when he withdrew just enough so that Kagome could witness the whole shocking length of him coring straight back down into the girl's wet waiting center, the miko could endure it no longer. He was toeing the line, but only _just_ and spitefully so. All the showmanship and antics, all the unnecessary eye-contact was making her blood boil in her veins.

With a final parting glare into that arrogant, hateful look of his, she pushed off from the tree and circled back through the woods. Standing far off to the side now of this vulgar spectacle, she breathed slow and measured as her brother-in-law let the girl's legs drop unceremoniously around him—before wrenching her roughly over onto her hands and knees and burying his cock back inside her.

Abruptly, Kagome found herself standing on familiar ground.

Her fist clenched around the neck of her haori as visions of the night she’d stumbled across Sesshoumaru and Mayuri assaulted her consciousness once more. Here now, in stark, vivid relief was the girl—prostrate and naked, gasping and moaning and hanging on for dear life as she was pounded from behind. And here was he—youki flaring darkly as he bent her roughly toward the ground, her body bowing almost grotesquely beneath the biting press of his claws.

“ _Ah!_ My lord! My lord, please—”

“ **Be silent** ,” Sesshoumaru growled, increasing his savage pace as he fisted his claws in her hair and shoved her face to the earth.

Kagome swallowed dryly at his viciousness. With Mayuri, he had been callous, but this…

Her skin prickled, an irrepressible shiver running through her as his aura thundered against her senses. There was a heightened intensity, an undercurrent of unfettered aggression that had not been present on that night. Already, she could feel his presence choking the air, spreading like wildfire through the clearing. From what she could see of his features in profile, his eyes were closed, but when at last they slid open, slits of virulent red were all that she saw.

Adrenaline coursed through Kagome’s veins, perspiration breaking out across her palms. As his face turned slowly toward her, his markings broad and frayed, the wicked slant of his lips froze her to the core.

In that moment, as she stared back at him, it was no longer Sesshoumaru that she saw. This was not her brother-in-law as she knew him. This was not the Lord of the Western Lands.

This was the monster—the _enemy_.

The Beast of her nightmares.

Obscenely, his smirk broadened at her helpless shock, a rumble of dark satisfaction echoing through the defiled air. Its weight bore down upon her like the shadow of death itself. As his claws lengthened, sinking into the girl's pale flesh, Kagome's pulse spiked in alarm. Blood was threading between his fingers—bright red and shimmering. The teenager whimpered as Kagome moved unconsciously forward, her power flaring from the beads about his neck.

Sesshoumaru snarled, but his claws only pierced deeper, his hips only plunged faster. Cold sweat ran in rivulets between Kagome's shoulder blades, seeped along the valley of her breasts. Her mouth opened and closed as her reiki flared again—to no avail. Far from stopping him, her acts of suppression only seemed to inflame him further. His fanged jaws split in savage glee, the girl shrilling as he rammed into her with increased ferocity, the whites of his too-red eyes glinting ever toward Kagome herself.

Petrified, the miko stared, her heart thrashing in her chest like a mad thing. Her fists trembled as she poured all the reiki she could into the rosary about his neck—yet though it blazed and burned, scalding a black ring around his sweaty, veined flesh, his violent pace didn't slacken in the slightest. With a chill of unadulterated horror, Kagome realized it was all too little too late. He was too far gone—

The rosary’s charm could not contain him.

Her clammy fingers unfroze at the knowledge. Stiffly, shakily, she fumbled for her bow.

“ _Sesshoumaru!_ ” she hissed at him, her power flooding down the drawn string. “Sesshoumaru, stop!”

A deep, guttural groan of pleasure was his only response to her whispered cries. Kagome’s insides twisted at the sound. By now the girl was outright sobbing in pain, her back and hips ribboned red with blood as she struggled in vain to wrest herself free from Sesshoumaru’s bestial grip. Cursing him and her own self in turn, the miko squeezed her eyes briefly shut as she released the taut, trembling bowstring at last.

Her arrow cut a brilliant, rosy swathe through the darkness. Streaking toward the rutting pair, it flared almost white as it struck the ground near Sesshoumaru’s left knee. With a deafening roar, the daiyoukai reeled from the blast, the bloodied girl breaking away from him with a frightened scream. As Kagome rushed into the clearing, the teenager lay naked and shuddering, her knees huddled to her chest as she stared at Sesshoumaru in abject terror.

“It’s alright,” Kagome said, reaching out. Her own voice quavered despite her best efforts to still it. “Everything’s going to be alright now—”

Face bloodless with fear, the girl fixed Kagome with a frantic, wide-eyed glance before she lurched to her feet and bolted, weeping, from the clearing. Stung, Kagome watched after her as she fled, her outstretched hand falling slowly back to her side.

In her concern for the girl, she had almost forgotten about her brother-in-law. Now she turned toward him with a troubled frown. Crouched and golden-eyed once more, he glared toward her, radiating hostility, his whole left side smoking and scalded reddish-black. Kagome glared back.

“You brought this on yourself, Sesshoumaru. You should have stopped when I told you to.”

His youki simmered with agitation. “Do you think I did not try?”

“ _Try..._ ” Kagome muttered, stalking toward him. “From where I was standing, it looked like you were _trying_ to rip that poor girl to shreds.” Banding her arms across her chest, she drew to a stop, peering down at him in bitter disdain. “If I hadn’t shot that arrow at you, you’d have raped her to death just like all the others.” Kagome’s fists clenched as her voice frayed, threatening to break with anguished fury. “You heartless beast.”

At this condemnation, Sesshoumaru went deadly still, the very air around her seeming to chill with his displeasure. “Were you any other,” he spoke to her with terrible softness, “I would strike you down where you stand.”

“I’m sure you would,” the miko replied just as lowly, the corner of her lips rising in a humorless half-smile, “if I were any other.”

At an impasse, they regarded one another in frigid silence. Implacable as Kagome felt, she was still surprised when Sesshoumaru was the one to end the standoff.

His eyes slid shut as he exhaled shortly through his fangs. “I need relief, Kagome.”

The miko’s shoulders stiffened, her gaze descending. In her anger, she had overlooked his nakedness, but now she found her attention riveted on his flushed and throbbing sex. Swallowing shallowly, she tore her eyes away—only to be confronted with his own searing gaze. Kagome’s cheeks flamed, tension coiling like a spring in the pit of her stomach. And now she could see the strain in him as well, crimson leaching into his vision as he fought to hold himself in check.

“ _Kagome_ ,” he said again, the edge of lust in his voice making her blood run cold.

Before she could stop herself, the miko retreated a step. “ _No._ ”

“You must,” he said, leaning toward her. Close to her now, the heat of his body made her shiver. “Surely you see that it is the only way. You cannot temper me while I take another.”

Her face burned once more—this time in outrage. “I’m a holy priestess,” she snapped, bristling further at his obvious indifference. “I’m your brother’s wife!”

“My brother is dead,” he stated with a coolness that made her want to slap him bloody. “You are bound to no one—or is your shoulder not as bare as the day you were born?”

Unconsciously, her hand went to it—to the spot near the base of her neck which had once borne Inuyasha’s mating mark. No longer. Her jaw locked tight against the sting of unshed tears.

“The marking doesn’t matter. In my heart, I’m committed to him still.” Her gaze narrowed. “Not that I’d expect someone like _you_ to understand that kind of devotion.”

Sesshoumaru’s expression darkened, an inscrutable intensity shadowing his eyes. It disquieted Kagome in a way she could not place. Then, just as swiftly as it had appeared, the shadow lifted.

“Kill me,” he said.

Kagome blanched. “What?” Recovering, she advanced hotly upon him. “ _Kill_ _you_ , Sesshoumaru?— _really_?" She ground her teeth in irritation. "Don’t say such careless things!”

In the hard set of his features, there was only resignation. “You will not check me, and I cannot. I am weary of it, this senseless violence.” After a slight pause, he added, “This mad desire I cannot control.”

As he looked at her, Kagome saw for a moment the raw conflict mirrored in his gaze. She saw the need, the strife—the torment. That he was sorely afflicted by his sick human fetish was clear, and despite herself she felt a glimmer of pity for him, though he did not deserve it. What he deserved was her righteous anger, and she drew strength from it as it blazed within her anew.

“Stop being ridiculous, Sesshoumaru. You think I’m going to let you take the easy way out, after all that you’ve done?” she said to him fiercely. “It's the most selfish thing I've ever heard. _No one’s_ dying anymore because of your stupid perversions—not me, not you, and certainly not some defenseless young girl. Now,” she barreled on before her temper could lose its steam, “since you clearly can’t be trusted with a woman yet, you’re just going to have to pull yourself together and take care of it on your own—like you should have been doing from the start.”

“Take care of it on my own,” he repeated, eyeing her closely.

Kagome set her hands on her hips, as much to brace herself as to remonstrate him, her eyes flicking pointedly down to his unflagging erection. “That’s right,” she affirmed in a brisk tone, inwardly proud of the air of nonchalance she'd managed to maintain. When he only continued to stare at her in flat silence, she faltered. “You know,” she said, color rising to her cheeks, “...masturbate?”

Sesshoumaru’s gaze sharpened, flinty with indignation. Kagome wasn’t exactly sure what he found so offensive—the idea of masturbating, or the insinuation that he hadn’t been following her train of logic from the start. Warily, she tensed, bracing herself for a confrontation. But Sesshoumaru only tersely sighed.

“In the past, it has not been sufficient.”

Kagome’s shoulders sank. Of course she should have figured he’d tried as much before, if he truly was remorseful of his crimes. Feeling a little foolish, she bit her lip and glanced away, the sound of his voice drawing her back.

“But perhaps,” he resumed, regarding her intently, “if you were to remain close by...”

The red heat in his eyes unnerved her almost as much as the suggestion. Forcing herself not to show it, Kagome set her jaw and hardened her gaze.

“Fine,” she said with as much bravado as she could muster, crossing her arms over her chest once again. “Let’s just get this over with.”


	18. Beast Tamer

**- Beast Tamer -**

Sesshoumaru needed no further invitation. With predatory ease, he relaxed from his tense crouch, his disturbing gaze remaining riveted upon her as he curved his claws around the blood-thickened base of his shaft.

Kagome’s spine stiffened in counterpoint, her nails digging into her arms as she looked up and away— _anywhere_ but at him. Still, she couldn’t block out the telling sound of skin-on-skin, the furtive, dampening rhythm in the slide of his hand. Nor the way his simmering aura was buffeting against her, as if trying to draw out her own. Her skin crawled at the brazenness of the sensation—at the sheer filthiness and absurdity of the situation she was in.

“Take down your hair.”

Kagome’s eyes flashed to his, the near-total redness of his gaze drawing her momentarily short. “Excuse me?”

“It will hasten the act,” he replied, slightly ragged. “Is that not what you want?”

Though she didn’t care for the undertone in his remark, it seemed a harmless enough request, given how deep into this mess she already was. And if it would help speed things along...

With a brisk tug, Kagome pulled her hair ribbon free, her long raven locks tumbling down around her shoulders in a dark, silky fall. She felt as much as heard his rumble of approbation, gooseflesh prickling her skin as the air darkened and the pace of his self-pleasure increased. It rankled her beyond words, to know that this was how he preferred his women. To be herself a stand-in not only for the girl he hadn't been able to finish fucking—but for all those he _had_ and must now be remembering, even with those coppery eyes of his trained upon her.

"Loosen your collar."

Spitefully, Kagome wrenched the neck of her haori open the slightest fraction. Only the smallest sliver of her upper chest was exposed, but it was to the left side of her neck that his hateful gaze fastened, the heat of it slipping almost tangibly beneath her clothes.

" **More** ," he demanded.

“Don’t push it,” Kagome growled back.

Sesshoumaru’s lip curled at the threat. Already his cheek stripes were as jagged as she’d ever seen them, the points of his distended fangs protruding from his vaguely smirking mouth. Wrathfully, Kagome scored her eyes over his deranged features, youki crackling like currents of static against her skin. Resisting the impulse to retaliate with her own power was difficult, but she was determined to keep her participation at a minimum, remembering with a sick feeling how her earlier spiritual intervention had only seemed to further arouse his monstrous lust.

“Did you enjoy it,” he said lowly to her, the steely tendons in his wrist contracting in an undeniable _squeeze_ , “watching me with that girl?”

Kagome’s eyes snapped back to his face in utter contempt. “Absolutely not.”

“And **the other**?” The slick length of his fangs glistened as he gave himself another slow, savoring stroke. “Did you not enjoy watching me with _her_ that night? You didn’t stop me, then...”

Hurt and anger seared within her at this vile accusation—this cruel, disparaging reference to her departed friend Mayuri. Beneath Kagome's skin, her reiki boiled, seeking to vent itself upon this salacious demon, but with a bitter twist of her lips, she calmed herself, refusing to give in to his baiting.

“You’re awfully talkative, Sesshoumaru,” she deflected coolly instead. “From all your silencing and snarling, I gathered you didn’t like to chat with girls, this far along in your rut.”

“ _Them?_ ” His red eyes glinted in wicked mockery. “ **No.** ”

Kagome repressed a shudder at the innuendo saturating his tone. There was no point in letting such a sleazy remark affect her. Telling a woman she was ‘special’ in order to get a rise out of her was probably the oldest trick in the book. Schooling her features, she focused her attention on the spidery outline of a distant tree.

“Tell me, then, which part did you **despise** the least?” When Kagome only set her jaw, he chuckled, low and dark. “Or is this what you prefer?—to have me on my knees with my cock out on full display?”

“Shut your filthy mouth, Sesshoumaru,” the miko seethed, though a growing part of her suspected that she was no longer speaking to him, truly.

“Come now, **sweet sister** —I only wish to hear what pleases you. With Inuyasha dead, you have had no one else to share your desires.”

Before Kagome could prevent it, her tongue lashed out. “And how would _you_ know that?” At the narrowing of his gaze, she collected herself, rephrasing archly, “What makes you so sure I haven’t been with another man?”

“So much for your pretensions of chastity,” he scoffed, his blood-red eyes raking over her. “Another **man** , you say...” His slow, sharp-toothed smile returned. “I should like to see it.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“ **Am I**?” Before Kagome could take her next breath, he struck out, seizing her by the waist and spinning her around in one terrifyingly swift movement. Kagome’s hands flew to his, a gasp of shock escaping her as he buried his nose between backs of her thighs and _breathed_. “...Your little wet cunt begs to differ.”

“ _Let go of me!_ ” she shrieked, prising at his stony claws.

Sesshoumaru merely tightened his grip. “I’ll fuck you better than my dead brother ever did. **Better than anyone.** But you already know that...don’t you, **woman**?”

Gritting her teeth, the miko continued to thrash in his hold, trying not to purify him—which she sensed would only further incite him. But when she felt the waist of her hakama begin to tear beneath his claws, when she felt the tips of his elongated fangs sink into the tender curve of her ass, her reiki unleashed from her on pure instinct. A flood of rose-white light coursed from her fingers through his own. With a snarl, Sesshoumaru released her, his head snapping to the side as Kagome whirled, striking him full across the face with her still-flaming palm.

“You bastard...” she said hoarsely, staggering away. Helpless tears streamed down her cheeks. "I hate you. You ruined my life—you ruined _everything_!"

Dark blood ran along the line of his jaw, his cheek split open by the impact of her blow. A thin band of gold now ringed his blue-black pupils, the barest hint of a frown ghosting his lips.

“Guard yourself,” he rasped out, his features lined as if with pain. “I cannot—”

The daiyoukai bit off as a violent tremor wracked through him. Despite everything, Kagome’s pulse thrummed in distress at the sight. Hesitantly, she stepped forward, her fingers trembling at her sides.

His head was bowed, a pall of shadows obscuring his kneeling form. An invisible wind stirred the black air of the clearing, lifting the gossamer strands of his hair and making Kagome shiver despite the latent heat of it. Still he didn’t look up as she continued to edge closer, her growing concern outweighing her misgivings.

“...Sesshoumaru?” she whispered.

"There is still time..."

His words drifted to her, deep and strangely detached. Kagome halted in place as he lifted his head, her breath of horror freezing in her throat. His eyes were two slits of pure fire, serrated teeth lining his protruded, muzzle-like jaw. Green-edged youki swirled around him as he rose to a towering height far above her, the great trees around them lashing in the maelstrom like matchsticks in a breeze. Knife-blade claws flashed in the fading moonlight, bone-white knuckles cracking with a sinister echo as he advanced upon her, sneering.

"... **Be a good bitch and spread your legs for me** ,  **and I may yet show you mercy.** "

Kagome stumbled back as a powerful demonic gale surged against her. Her bow and quiver ripped from her shoulders, her lips fixing in a grimace of dread. Whatever this foul creature's notion of 'mercy' was, she wanted no part of it. With far more courage than she felt, the miko dug her heels into the ground, repelling his oppressive, churning aura with a radiant burst of reiki.

"I will _not_."

A menacing rumble shook the night air, the demon's pale, wolfish brow lowering in challenge. " **Then you will suffer.** "

Before Kagome could even think of retrieving her bow, the Beast was upon her.

Air slammed from her lungs as her back smashed against a tree trunk, noxious jaws clamping down on her collar in a vicious, bone-grinding gnash. Kagome screamed out in blinding pain, her skin and haori shredding as she forced him off of her with an unbridled blast of reiki. The Beast snarled savagely, the corded muscle of his back and shoulders flexing—but by the time he lunged for her a split-second later, the radiant arc of her barrier met him with a purifying crash. He howled in rage as the holy shield deflected him, Kagome flinching at the abominable sound.

As her ears continued to ring, she pressed a palm to her mauled shoulder, using a little of her power to stanch the flow of blood and purify her wound. Broad as it was, the pattern of rends in her flesh was surprisingly shallow, as if he had only meant to scare her with the bite—or simply, to test her. It was a theory that took firmer root in her mind as she watched him prowl just beyond the glowing arc of her shield, a feral smirk twisting his heavily fanged mouth.

" **Good, good** ," he rumbled in dark approval, the sound seeming to bombard her from all sides. " **...You may survive me, yet.** "

Panting, Kagome straightened with difficulty, her eyes locked upon him in a venomous glare. " _You_...who are you?" Her hand slashed down from her shoulder, scarlet droplets flinging from her fingertips. "You aren't Sesshoumaru."

" **I am he.** "

"No," Kagome snapped back. "Sesshoumaru wouldn't hurt me—Sesshoumaru wouldn't hurt those girls. You've possessed him, haven't you? _You're_ the one twisting him into a monster, making him do these horrible things!" Her voice rose in mad desperation, her barrier rippling in uneven waves of light. "If I cast you out, he'll be free."

" **Free?** " the Beast sneered, the ground trembling beneath her feet as he melded fully with the brooding, livid dark. " **Foolish woman. How blind you choose to be...** "

Kagome gasped as she was driven back, barrier and all. Above her a torrent of vermilion-hued darkness blazed up, igniting the sky, the clearing, the whole forest itself in a deluge of seething demonic flame. The miko coughed at the air’s defilement, her streaming eyes lifting skyward as Sesshoumaru's massive canine form emerged through the hellish haze. She tumbled to the ground as he landed with quaking force, his mighty forepaws settling around the edges of her shield. Saber-length claws tore through the rocky earth, gouts of youki-laced poison boiling against her barrier as they fell from his slavering mouth. A huge forked tongue thrust forth obscenely as his cavernous jaws split open above her in a resounding, bloodcurdling roar.

**I...**

**AM...**

**FREE**

Raggedly, Kagome sobbed, her throat going raw with hopeless grief. Her bloodied shoulder blazed and throbbed. Her bruised spine shot with pain. But it was the ache in her heart that threatened to cripple her, as the Beast bit down on her shield with brutal, crushing force.

At the attack, at the sight of his obvious excitement at her suffering, her sadness devolved to full-blown anger. Why should she cry for her own naivety? Why should she mourn for one who had never been?—her ideal of a Sesshoumaru who had never truly existed. _This_ was what he really was.

And yet...

Beneath the lust and animal madness, beneath the violence and greed and shameless depravity, there had been the stoicism, the glimmers of concern, of regret, even of—

Kagome screwed her eyes shut, unwilling to let her misguided sentiments carry her any further away than that. As her barrier began to crack like an egg beneath the splitting pressure of his jaws, her power spiked through it in a vicious burst. Sesshoumaru howled as the cutting points of her reiki stabbed him through, the earth shaking as he backed off from her with a ferocious toss of his head. Smoke billowed from his ivory muzzle. Black blood spilled from his peeled-back lips, his fiery eyes narrowing at her as he paced around her and lashed out with his claws.

Glaring back, Kagome felt the last of her tears burn from her cheeks. She had resolved, weeks ago when her righteous fury was at its keenest and most pure, to fix her brother-in-law. If this crazed beast was truly part of him, then she _would_ exorcise it. She would bring him to heel and _make_ him into the man she wished for him to be.

Though the Beast's power was unlike anything she had ever witnessed before—even from Sesshoumaru himself—as her will solidified and she mastered her initial despair, Kagome began to detect a disarray in the flurry of attacks bombarding her. Like a fire burning out of control, his youki was disorganized and rampant. _Chaotic_. Were it otherwise, were his onslaught concentrated and focused, she would have had no choice but to concede defeat—but as it was, she saw her slim advantage like a glimmer of light in the darkness.

She _could_ subdue him. As his raging tempest of youki assailed her, as he raised his paw to strike down upon her beleaguered barrier once again, she stared hard at the sparse ring of prayer beads still encircling his massive neck. Her power flared in them as she furrowed her brow, Sesshoumaru snapping his fangs as though merely annoyed. But Kagome was undeterred. With a clear voice, she called out into the fathomless dark—

" _Sit, boy!_ "

The shadows swallowed up Kagome's tried-and-true command of subjugation, its afterecho ringing hollow in her throat. Huge crimson eyes scintillated with derision. Black canine lips pulled back in a fiendish leer as the lights of her rosary beads dimmed and sputtered out.

Kagome's features crumpled in defeat, but before she could dwell too long on her failure, black flames roared against her barrier with cataclysmic force. The shield shattered at the impact, dispersing in a shower of raining light. In a panic, Kagome raised another barrier to replace it— Sesshoumaru's steely claws swatting through it like a soap bubble fit to burst.

It was clear to her now in her near-exhausted state that her shield could no longer hold against him. Adept as she had become in battling demons, her first offense had always been a virtually impregnable defense. Not in many years had Kagome felt so distinctly helpless. It was a despicable feeling—a feeling she refused to entertain. As Sesshoumaru had cruelly reminded her so many times tonight, Inuyasha was dead. Her friends and allies were far away. She was injured and alone in his domain. She had only herself to rely upon, and gods only knew where her bow was...

But it didn't matter. She wouldn't lose to this monster, and though the rational part of her mind screamed at her that this was madness, she strode forward toward the jaws of the Beast himself. Her spine was straight, her focused will diamond-bright in her mind. Looming above her, Sesshoumaru watched her approach with an expression of gloating satisfaction, the charred ground splitting open beneath the indolent thrash of his tail. Kagome’s eyes slid shut against him.

 **YES...** Scythe-like claws gouged into the rocky earth as she felt him descend upon her. **SUBMIT TO ME**

As his hot ravenous breath steamed over her, Kagome retreated inward, to a place of perfect calm and clarity. In the depths of her ancient soul, she settled, as though drifting to the bottom of an ageless sea. Here, she scarcely noted the chill of the night air, scarcely felt the rough, acidic grating of his tongue over the length of her body. Here, the collective wisdom of her holy predecessors flowed around her, within her, blending with her own mortal knowledge and experience. She felt the kinship, and the subtle distinction.

Both in herself, and in the demon before her.

Her eyes opened as the edge of his forked tongue grazed her lips. Without conscious thought or effort, she nullified the venom lingering there in its wake.

"You are not Inuyasha," she said, an iron door seeming to close at last in her heart. "You are Sesshoumaru."

 _He_ was different. The _command_ was different.

Her whole being was alight with the knowledge—the _power_. Perhaps on instinct, the Beast reared back from her, resting low on his haunches. A timeless, primal tension gripped the air between them. Kagome smiled up at him, bitterly.

"Down," she said.

The word left her as little more than a whisper, but its effect was immediate. A fearsome roar reverberated through the wilderness, Kagome's hair whipping back as the Beast's massive bulk crashed to the earth below. Dust and youki rose in a boiling storm, the miko shielding herself as best she could against it. With stinging eyes, she lowered her upraised arms, peering forward as the smoke thinned and unobstructed moonlight filtered once more into the clearing.

Before her, she could just make out the dim, shadowy outline of a crater. Numbly, Kagome walked up to the edge, her sandals sliding a little on the loose slag. In the center of the depression was Sesshoumaru himself, now reduced to his saner, more human-like form. Breathing heavily, he stared up at her from his crouch, his gaze golden and slightly unfocused.

At the sight of him, her shock broke in a tidal wave of repressed fury. Ripping off her ruined outer haori, Kagome advanced upon him, a cocktail of reiki and adrenaline slamming through her veins. Her lungs swelled, her balled fists shaking. In this tempest of savage triumph, she stopped before him, drawing herself proudly upright despite the soot on her face and in her hair, the gaping tears in her clothes. Through the thin, sweat-dampened fabric of her inner haori, the night wind slipped, hardening her nipples into visible dusky points. Following the vehement course of his eyes there, Kagome glared at him in vicious satisfaction.

"Go on and look, then," she said wrathfully to him, grabbing a fistful of his silky hair and jerking him forward. "Pick up your filthy cock and _look at me,_ you pervert."

Sweat-slicked as her own, Sesshoumaru's broad chest heaved as he gazed hungrily upon her, his huge, straining sex purpled with urgency. Groaning low in his throat, he closed his claws around it, his features contorting in an expression closer to agony than pleasure. Transfixed, Kagome watched in repulsed captivation as he pumped and twisted. Her blood heated along with his own, a lust equally as powerful consuming her. She reveled in the fullness of her strength, lightheaded at the gruesome fate she had narrowly avoided, at the knowledge that she had bested a force even greater than her own.

"Faster," she ordered him, her breath drawing as short as his. " _Harder._ "

Eagerly, Sesshoumaru obeyed. His amber eyes were dark and liquid, the points of his fangs glinting from his panting mouth. Youki unspooled, wreathing around her, and Kagome responded in kind.

"From now on, this is how it's going to be," she said, surrounding him with her power. "You're going to perform how I tell you to. You’re going to do exactly what I say.”

Her grip tightened in his hair for emphasis, her blunt, dirty nails scraping his scalp. She found herself liking the contrast, liking the way his godlike beauty was sullied by her blameless humanity and his own infernal lust.

A fitting degradation.

The claws of his free hand clasped her hip, her skin burning where he touched her through a hole in the fabric. His prominent balls were heavy and swollen, drawn portentously high beneath the base of his shaft.

“...Yes, Kagome,” he rasped out, his lustrous eyes filming with pleasure.

“That’s 'Kagome- _sama'_ to you, demon,” she corrected breathlessly. Seizing at the rosary around his neck, she cinched the burning beads tight against his pounding throat. “ _Say it._ ”

His fangs clenched, his features darkening as seed pearled from the tip of his engorged, captive cock. “...Kagome- _sama_.”

The miko's hold slackened briefly, her blood thundering in her ears. “...Good,” she murmured, as if intoxicated. “Now, finish.”

Sesshoumaru surged, thrusting into the vise of his fist with a ragged snarl of release. The violence of his ecstasy ripped through them both, raw relief softening his expression in the wake of it. The bite of his claws eased on her hip, though his touch there lingered. Similarly euphoric, she held his gaze as he regarded her in hazy awe, his spent cock still pulsing in his hand. Dropping it into the puddle of his own seed, he bent down to kiss her bare dirty feet, and Kagome, in her benevolence, allowed it.


	19. Kagome-sama

**Author's note:** Just FYI there are a couple of _Control_ side-stories posted on my blog (www.ficaholic.com) if you're interested - you can find them under the 'Blog Fics' section of the Fanfiction page :)

 

**\- Kagome-sama -**

Heavily, Kagome breathed. Her fingers twitched in the loose silk of his hair. As her blood cooled and her fatigue came to bear upon her, she released her tenuous hold on her brother-in-law altogether. Trails of tingling saliva chilled the tops of her feet, the ball of her ankle chafing beneath the languid stroke of his tongue. Kagome shuddered, her groin giving a disturbing throb.

"Okay, that's enough," she bit out, pushing against the hard clammy breadth of his shoulders. The claws at her hip arrested her motion, fixing her firmly in place as his other hand skimmed up along the back of her leg, his damp mouth detaching from her ankle to latch onto the clothed junction of her thighs. " _Sesshoumaru!_ "

Indolently, he looked up at her, his claws tightening around her waist. His eyes were dull, dark. Seizing his head in her hands, Kagome forced him to focus.

"Cut it _out_ ," she growled, digging her nails in sharply when he buried his face back between her legs. "You just got off _five minutes ago_!”

Sesshoumaru rumbled peevishly into her, his nose knocking against her swollen clit as he finally withdrew. Clenching her jaw against the stab of sensation, Kagome swayed a little when he swiftly stood—catching her around the ribs and pressing her back flush against him.

“W-what are you doing?!” she shrilled, struggling futilely in his hold.

“Apologizing,” he answered as he pulled open the neck of her haori and slid its torn left sleeve halfway down her arm. “You are injured.”

Kagome clutched the falling fabric to her breast in a panic. The moment his mouth touched her shoulder wound, she stiffened.

"I can heal it myself," she said hoarsely, attempting to shrug him off again.

But with her reiki exhausted, she had no real choice but to endure the tortuous slide of his tongue over her hastily-mended flesh. She hissed in a breath as her thin scabs sloughed off, the charged wetness of his mouth anesthetizing the pain. Whimpering, she slumped in his overpowering grip, trying to ignore the fact that he was stark naked and semi-hard against her. Slowly, methodically, and disconcertingly erotically, he knit her broken skin back together again. As the healing swipes of his tongue shallowed to a flicker, she wriggled free at last. Staggering away, she turned her eyes pointedly from him.

"Go clean yourself off," she said in strained voice, her fingers trembling as she set her fragile haori to rights.

"Very well," she heard him say behind her. The rustle of silk and clink of metal punctuated the ensuing silence as he gathered up his discarded clothes and armor and ventured from the burned-out clearing. "Stay near—your strength is gone."

Banding her arms about herself, Kagome waited a few minutes more before she turned, peering narrowly in the direction he had taken. Her lost weapons found and retrieved, she trudged off in the opposite direction, wandering for perhaps half a mile or so, until she came upon a mountain stream.

Stripping off her ruined sandals, the miko sank her feet into the crisp, frothy current, her teeth gritting at the bite of the cold water against her blistered soles. Her hands were similarly scorched. Dunking them beneath the surface, she cursed aloud at the pang.

It had been a long time, since she'd been this injured in battle. Collapsing onto a log, she let her feet soak as she drank a palmful of icy water and splashed another onto her frowning face. Her whole body felt like one big, nasty wound—hot and aching and grimy. She wanted to bathe, to wash away the dirt and the blood, the stale sweat and, most of all, the lingering arousal. A physical response to being inundated with so much spiritual and sexual stimulus—but even so, she itched to be rid of it. Without any fresh clothes to put on, though, the effort seemed pointless.

Rattled and weary, Kagome picked herself up and walked along the rocky shore. Finding a moss-blanketed overhang, she settled down to meditate and recover a bit of her strength. But her thoughts were hopelessly distracted. Glaring up at the gibbous moon above her, she could feel herself fading from the strain. Her breath misted out in a crystalline fog, her lashes weighing heavy as lead.

In a moment, she would get up and go find Sesshoumaru. In less than an hour she would be back in Edo village, sleeping soundly in her own warm bed. These were the thoughts that whirled within her as she sank down into the lush undergrowth, to rest her body and mind—

Just for a moment.

...

Even before Kagome's eyes shot open, her bow was armed and in her hands.

Rapidly she breathed through the lingering fog of her unconsciousness, her miko instincts firing at the foreign, near-undetectable youki signature feathering at the edges of her senses. Reiki flamed down the drawn shaft of her arrow, its light fit to blind as her power flared out at the point. Focusing hard through the glare, she could discern a tall, masculine figure who had been leaning above her slowly straighten away.

"Forgive me," the demon said placidly, his resonant voice rippling over her like water through river stones. "I did not mean to startle you from your slumber."

Kagome's eyes narrowed, her grip not relaxing in the slightest. The fact that this strange youkai had clearly been concealing his presence filled her with instant distrust. Yet already she could feel the meager strength she’d regained from her few minutes’ rest starting to drain. Would Sesshoumaru hear her, she deliberated, if she screamed?

"Who are you?" she demanded at last, easing back into a more defensible position. “Why were you spying on me just now?”

“I am Hirokin,” he replied, opalescent claws gesturing fluidly toward the stream behind him. “These waters are my domain.”

Warily, Kagome regarded him. Eyes even bluer than her own held her gaze in turn. Clothed in cerulean and white silk, his whole form seemed to gently wave with some invisible current, his shoulder-length silver hair listing with a watery glow. In his hand was a staff of coral, ringed with a chime of silver beads and shells. Jewel-like fragments of the same red coral ringed his throat. At the sight of them, Kagome frowned.

“We’ve met before,” she realized, lowering her bow slightly. “A few weeks back, on a cliffside. You and some other guy who looks like you were in talks with Sesshoumaru.”

“My elder brother,” Hirokin supplied. “Our father is a vassal of Sesshoumaru-sama’s.” His gaze flowed over her face. “You are his half-brother’s widow, are you not? The priestess Kagome.”

The miko tensed. “You sure seem to know a lot about me.”

“You are my lord’s pack sister,” he responded mildly. “That alone makes you worth knowing.” Significantly, he paused. “Yet your own reputation precedes you.”

Uncertain what to make of that remark, Kagome set her jaw. “Well. Sorry for crashing your war council that day—it was urgent.”

“Even so, in all the centuries I have known Sesshoumaru-sama, I have never seen him so quick to heed the summons of another,” Hirokin said, his tone vaguely musing. “It would seem that he esteems you greatly.”

Kagome’s cheeks pinked. Thinking of how Sesshoumaru had been manhandling her only a short while ago, she was inclined to differ. After a moment, Hirokin resumed speaking.

“Your apology is graciously received, though it was not a war council you interrupted, but a tedious errand ended none-too-soon—another shameless attempt by my father to curry favor with Sesshoumaru-sama, by offering him my two younger sisters.” Kagome blanched, Hirokin’s eyes glittering as he added, “They are considered quite beautiful, even amongst youkai.”

Looking at Hirokin, she could believe it. Bristling, she muttered, “Nothing personal against your sisters, but I don’t think they’re his type.”

“No,” he said, his gaze dwelling on her a beat too long for her liking, “I suppose not.”

Staring hard at him, she willed her erratic pulse to subside. How much did he know or suspect of Sesshoumaru’s derangement? Of her own involvement in it? Vassal or not, she couldn’t trust to his intentions. Resolving not to reveal anything further, she bit her tongue against all she still had the heated impulse to say.

“But I have kept you too long from your rest,” the river demon said, inclining his head. “No doubt we will meet again...Kagome-sama.”

She watched as he turned, strands of mother-of-pearl glimmering from the fishbone braid near his temple. Bare-footed, he stepped out into the stream, his white-edged form melding seamlessly with the current. Kagome exhaled shakily, her unlit weapons clattering from her stiff, cramping fingers. Black spots flecked her vision as she slumped to her side, passing out cold.

...

Red light scorched behind her shuttered eyes.

Kagome groaned, shifting in the softness that enveloped her. As her sleeping limbs wakened, she curled her hands into the fine texture beneath her, something strange and alien in it startling her to full alertness.

Her breath stilted, her fingers clenching. Exhaling forcefully, she pushed herself upright, coils of soft fur slipping down her form. Kagome's eyes widened, then narrowed. Staring at the ivory pelt pooled in her lap, she tensed, her gaze darting toward the figure perched nearby, on a ledge of rock overlooking the mountain stream.

The look Sesshoumaru returned to her was reproving. "I told you to stay near."

Kagome scowled, shoving the lush fur the rest of the way off of her. “What did you expect?—for me to wait around on you in that smoking crater? I needed to soak my feet.”

“You should have come with me then,” he replied, the smoothness of his tone setting her teeth that much more on edge.

“Get real,” she bit out, flushing irritably. Spitefully, she blurted, “I met one of your vassals last night—some guy named Hirokin.”

Sesshoumaru’s glance chilled, sliding darkly toward the water’s edge. Kagome swallowed, immediately regretting her impetuous remark.

“Don’t kill him,” she said.

The daiyoukai’s eyes cut sharply to her.

“It’s just that you looked like you wanted to kill him,” she explained quickly, her voice lowering to an anxious mutter. “Actually, you _still_ look like you want to kill him...”

Sesshoumaru’s expression was hard. “Do not trust him.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Kagome said hotly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Not that _you’re_ one to lecture me on the subject.”

Sesshoumaru said nothing to this. Recalling his fur to him, he turned toward the stream again. His claws flashed briefly beneath the surface, hauling out a thrashing silver fish. Its scales shimmered blindingly in the morning light.

Kagome blinked, wincing at the stark crack of its spine breaking. Ribbons of bloody innards spilled from its belly as Sesshoumaru gutted it with ruthless efficiency and plunged it into the stream again. After a few scorching swipes along its sides, he handed it to her by a hooked claw in its gill.

“Eat,” he said. “Your is stomach growling.”

Making a face, Kagome reached for the smoking carcass with reiki-infused palms. Once the fish was purified, she picked at the folds of filleted white flesh—trying not to think too hard about what they resembled. The acid-fried meat was chewy and tasteless, but she choked it down nonetheless. It was still better than the sorry excuse for tea he had made for her in the past—or gods forbid, the rice.

Glaring at him, she spit out a singed bone. “So, you’ve got demon lords throwing their beautiful daughters at you, and you’re still messing around with humans.”

Folding his hands into his sleeves, Sesshoumaru fixed her with a level stare. “Who is being ‘thrown’ at me?”

Kagome glowered. “Hirokin said that his dad offered you _both_ of his sisters.”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “And did he tell you that I refused?”

Tossing the remains of the fish aside, Kagome stood. Her hands planted on her hips as she stared him down.

“Just so you know, no demon brat of yours will _ever_ inherit Tessaiga. It belonged to Inuyasha, and now it belongs to me. So keep that in mind whether you continue to ‘refuse’ these offers or not.”

“You worry for nothing,” Sesshoumaru said, his golden eyes flicking coolly askance. “Such an arrangement is of no interest to me.”

“What,” Kagome scoffed, “being respectably married?”

Swiftly, Sesshoumaru rose, looming above her. Holding her ground, Kagome looked up at him warily, her toes curling into the moss for purchase.

“Yes,” he said, the glint of his eyes piercing through her as he leaned in, the very ends of his fur brushing against the swell of her breast.  “...Sweet sister.”

Kagome recoiled at the phrase, the Beast's words haunting her through it.

"You..." she said lowly, sweeping his fur clear of her as she backed away. "Don't be so cheeky."

Heatedly, Sesshoumaru held her gaze. "Then compose yourself."

The miko grit her teeth. Her hands fisted at her sides as she glared.

"If you didn't want me to be so bad-tempered, you should have picked a better time for all of this," she snapped, glancing aside as she thought back over the pattern of his known encounters. "Gods. Is this really how it's going to be?—every month's business?"

"Roughly," the daiyoukai replied, regarding her heavily.

Kagome exhaled through her clenched teeth. Pacing over to the stream, she knelt at its edge and drank sullenly from the racing current. The cold braced her slightly. Straightening, she turned toward him.

There was something curious in his behavior toward her. Something in his bearing that suggested he didn't quite know _how_ to behave. It was so uncharacteristic of him that Kagome couldn't possibly let it go. Her brow furrowed as she considered him further, a frown weighing her lips as a thread of chilling realization wended through her.

"Human, demon...I'm the first, aren't I?" she said, almost on a whisper. "The first one you haven't killed during sex."

In the darkening of his gaze, she found her answer. Swallowing tightly, she turned away, her fingers twisting in her sleeves to still their shaking.

"Well, you heard what I said last night—you're not ready for other women," she said, her voice still tight to her own hearing. "But all things considered, it could have gone a lot worse. At least I was able to get a hold on you, in the end."

"Yes," Sesshoumaru said.

Somewhat mollified by his concession, Kagome gazed off toward the stream's turbulent end. "I'll relax the barrier around Edo village so you can enter. It was only a matter of time until Rin-chan started interrogating me about it, anyway." Her shoulders slackened a bit as her eyes slanted back toward him. "She misses you."

"And I her," he replied.

Kagome deflated further. "...I don't know where my sandals are. I think they must've washed downstream."

"It is no matter," Sesshoumaru said, extending a clawed hand toward her. "Come—I will take you home."

Staring at him for a moment, Kagome approached. At once, his arm went around her, caging her in against him. The miko squirmed on principle as they took to the air, the warmth of his breath against her neck making her feel vaguely ill. In what seemed like another life, she had taken a measure of comfort in his rare embrace—now, the mere feeling of him against her made her skin crawl with unease.

It was a feeling that deepened as they soared East. Fanned out against her, his claws scratched lightly over her lower stomach. Trying her best to remain unaffected, Kagome nevertheless cringed at this unwanted intimacy. But it was the feeling of his nose against her ear that startled her into outright distress. Even as she shifted pointedly in his hold, his mouth pursued her. When his fangs closed around the delicate shell of her ear and _tugged_ , she reeled in sudden anger.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" she exclaimed—deeply resenting the fact she couldn't 'sit' him in midair without breaking her own neck in the bargain.

"Showing you affection," he replied, nonplussed. Nipping once more at her tender lobe, he rumbled, "Is that not customary for one's partner?"

"I'm not your 'partner'," Kagome seethed, slashing her chin to the side to break his hold on her ear. "I'm your _referee—_ and I'm never flying with you like this _ever again_!"

The minute his youki cloud touched to the ground, she broke free of him with a jolt of reiki. Rounding upon him, she bared her teeth.

“ _Down_ ,” she growled, her chest heaving as his knees hit the earth. It was a subjugation without savor, as his eyes met hers boldly, simmering with intent. "Damn you, Sesshoumaru. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay far away from me."

"As you wish," he said, inclining his head as he rose gracefully and took to the air once again, "my lady."

The edge in his voice had her hackles rising afresh. Scowling, Kagome stared after him, her heart pounding in her chest as she followed his fading form through the sky.


	20. Dreams

**\- Dreams -**

_Hand-in-hand, she walked with him through the twilit woods._

_The air was an inky, brooding violet. A soft carpet of leaves blanketed the forest floor, whispering clandestinely at their approach. Skeins of mist chilled and wet the insides of her thighs, as though he had already kissed them there. Kagome moistened her lips in turn, anticipation pooling low in her belly as she glanced aside. Golden eyes held hers, the darkness mirrored in them sending a frission of primal arousal spiking through her._

_As if of one mind, they drew to a stop in the moonlit clearing. She moaned into his mouth the moment his lips met hers, clawed hands pulling her into the solid warmth of his frame. Curling her fingers into his haori, she surrendered herself to him, her head lolling to the side as he fastened his mouth to the column of her throat. Heat flared into her collar. When he fit his fangs into the marking there, she gasped and arched against him._

_Her hardened nipples chafed against the confines of her bra._ _Already his hands were beneath her skirt, his strong, sharp-tipped fingers cupping and squeezing. The thin crotch of her panties dampened, stretching deliciously taut. A short, panting breath stole from her as his thumb circled around and stroked the fleshy seam of her lower lips, his thick cock jabbing like a sword hilt into her stomach._

_"Take these off," he said gruffly, Kagome yelping as he yanked her underwear up at the front—the swollen folds of her sex spilling out around it._

_Wetness smeared her inner thighs as she shucked her panties off. Trembling, she stood before him, her whole lower half pulsing with need._

_"Get down on your knees," he said._

_Readily, she complied, a low growl leaving him as her lips brushed brazenly along his shaft in her descent. Inwardly, Kagome reveled at the sound, knowing the kind of rise this little act of rebellion would elicit in him. Her expression was contrite as his claws fisted in her hair, angling her face roughly up toward his. His features were shadowed, his amber eyes narrowed and searing._

_Releasing her abruptly, he commanded, "Turn around and bend over."_

_Kagome turned, scrambling over onto her hands and knees. With a little whimper, she offered herself wholly to him, a curl of wind licking against her exposed, teeming center. Youki thickened the air, electrified it. Her mouth went dry at his untamed power, the fine hairs on her arms standing on end. Her wet core gaped for him like a hungry mouth, the little pucker of flesh between her cheeks quivering as he spread them further apart. Which hole he would choose to take was anyone's guess, and her stomach tightened with mingled lust and fear._

_But it was her cunt he leveled the broad head of his sex against, air hissing through her teeth as he breached her there. The stretching discomfort of his invasion soon melted into pleasure. Groaning deep in her throat, she rocked back against him as he bottomed out within her. Her lips fell open, a feeling of indescribable fulfillment arresting her._

_Her walls shivered around him as he gripped her hips and began to thrust. His demonic aura burned in her lungs, seared against her skin. Already she could feel herself peaking from the overwhelming flood of sensation, of violation—every instinct in her screaming that this was defilement, sacrilege._

_Danger._

_His thrusts grew wilder, rougher—sublime in their devastation. Her whole being was cinched hot and tight—a burning wire fit to snap. But she wanted more—needed more. Her power lashed against him, cutting whip-cords of reiki that had him snarling as they struck._

_"Kagome..." he thundered in warning. "Kagome, stop."_

_But she didn't stop. Not even when his aura shifted, darkening to black. Adrenaline pounded like a drug through her veins. Years ago, before she had even known what real desire was, when she had looked upon him in his true demon form, she had felt it—this terrifying, exquisite thrill._

_She felt it now as he roared behind her in bestial greed. Long razor claws cut into her, his ramming cock swelling inside her to the splitting point. Basking in the violence, the unchecked brutality, she rode the pain as hard as the pleasure—until she could bear no more, until her breath caught and her vision tunneled and she felt herself collapsing inward, spiraling in to that single point of absolute release._

_She was almost there when his claws seized at her shoulders, driving her face-first toward the ground. Her pleasure broke as she crushed to the earth. She couldn't breathe—she couldn't even scream. Terror drowned her lungs as he held her there, his claws shearing deeply down her spine._

_In her panic, reiki exploded from her—attempting to suppress him. But it was like throwing water on a wildfire. The storm of his aura smothered her own, as he was smothering her._

_Blood flowed hot and fast down her sides, spilled out in a flood onto the ground below. Inside she was tearing, dissolving. With the last of her fading strength, she raised her head and looked back at her husband, horror widening her eyes at what she saw instead—_

_The feral, smirking form of the Beast himself._

" _NO!_ " Kagome screamed as she bolted upright.

Surfacing from the nightmare, she gasped for air. Her blurred vision cleared, her eyes darting around in a panic to catalog her surroundings. It was still dark. But she was in her own home—in her own bed. Cold sweat trickled down her temple as she dug her fingers into the familiar sheets for reassurance.

A watery whimper smothered in her throat. At the front of the house, the reed door banged suddenly open, and she started in fright.

"Kagome-sama!" Kanako cried, rushing toward her. "Kagome-sama, are you all right?"

The waif collapsed at Kagome's side, her grey eyes silvery and luminous in the pre-dawn gloom. The girl's timely arrival aside, from her dirty, rumpled appearance Kagome could tell at once that Kanako had been sleeping beneath her porch again. The miko forced out a terse sigh.

"I'm fine—it was just a bad dream."

 _Again_ , Kagome added bitterly to herself.

Fingers clenched in the knees of her yukata, Kanako's wide, round eyes roved over Kagome nevertheless. Beneath this unblinking assessment, the miko frowned. Chest still heaving, she at last felt the strain of her twisted sleeping robe—one slanted edge of its neckline cutting into the sweat-slickened swell of her breast. Splayed and askew, her legs were tangled uncomfortably in the bedsheets, the flesh between them still hot and wet and throbbing. Gritting her teeth, Kagome glanced away.

"Fetch me some water, would you?"

At once, Kanako scrambled up and over to the basin. Water sloshed as she filled a cup and brought it over. Straightening her legs and clothing, Kagome accepted it, her eyes sliding shut as she took a few bracing sips. Next to her, Kanako remained, hovering.

“It’s still early,” Kagome said wearily as she set down the cup and turned over onto her side, not particularly wanting to be alone. “If you’re just going to hang around here anyway, grab a blanket and go bed down by the hearth. I’m going back to sleep.”

With shaking hands, the waif took up one of the summer blankets Kagome had partially thrown off. The miko tensed as the mussed fabric slid sinuously down her calves. She had meant for Kanako to take a blanket from the shelf...

“Sleep well, Kagome-sama,” the waif whispered, the faint rasp of her voice crawling over Kagome as well.

The miko swallowed, suppressing an irrational shudder. She was still just rattled from her dream, that was all—her fears and misgivings magnified in the lingering night. When morning arrived, her mind would clear and her nerves would settle.

She just needed to close her eyes and wait.

But behind her lowered lids the darkness was deeper still, each stir of the air reminding her of hot panting breath on her neck, each catch of the sheets against her skin constricting. Stifled, distressed, Kagome kept her eyes open instead. Bringing her hands close to her face, she studied their pale trembling outline until her gaze seared from the strain, unfocusing mercifully at last.

As dawn broke, tinting the edges of Kagome's vision red, she stirred as if from a heavy sleep. Blinking her scratchy, tired eyes, she sat up slowly, annoyed but unsurprised to see Kanako staring back. Wrapped up like a mummy beside the cold hearth, the girl regarded Kagome from just over the blanket's knitted edge. The miko sighed, feeling the beginnings of a headache taking root.

"Go draw a bath, Kanako-chan," she said as she stood, her stiff limbs complaining at the motion, "while I make breakfast."

The blanket dropped to the floor as Kanako burst from it, snatching up a pair of buckets near the door. "Hai, Kagome-sama!"

Shaking her head, Kagome set about lighting the hearth. At hurried intervals, Kanako returned, pouring pails of well water into the wooden bathing tub. By the time it was full, the kettle Kagome had placed above the fire was starting to boil. Adding the rice, she reduced the heat to a simmer and plucked out a few hot stones to drop into the chilly tub.

As the stones fizzled to the bottom, Kagome turned toward Kanako with tongs still in hand. "Okay, hop in."

The waif's grimy face sagged in a frown. "But, Kagome-sama, I bathed just yesterday."

"Well, now you're dirty again because you slept under the porch." Glaring, Kagome set her hands on her hips. "So get to it."

Glumly, the teenager stripped out of her salmon-colored yukata as Kagome turned back to the rice. Giving it a quick stir before fitting the lid to the kettle, she heard the water splash as Kanako entered, and again—as she exited about a minute later. Kagome’s brow twitched.

“There is _no way_ you’re clean already,” she growled, whipping around. “And why in the gods’ names are you putting _that_ on again?”

Halfway into her dingy yukata, Kanako froze like a deer caught in the headlights. Sure enough, Kagome could see a smudge on the girl’s hollow cheek from here. Striding toward her, the miko pointed vehemently to the bath.

“Get back in.”

Letting the yukata slide from her bony shoulders, Kanako crept back into the tub, her eyes widening somehow further at Kagome’s thunderous approach. Muttering under her breath about how she had to do _everything_ herself, the miko knelt down beside the tub. Wetting a washcloth and bar of soap, Kagome scrubbed Kanako’s face, arms and chest like she was a child, before dropping the soapy cloth into her lap with a splash.

“You do the rest,” Kagome said crisply, bracing herself for the challenges ahead as she circled around and poured water over the stringy tangle of Kanako’s hair.

Lathering her hands, Kagome set to work on the knotted strands with the same harsh efficiency she’d used to scour Kanako’s skin. But no matter how hard Kagome pulled at her scalp, and despite Kanako’s tendency for whining in general, the girl didn’t so much as whimper in protest. Instead, she was perfectly lax as she ran the cloth obediently over her submerged lower half.

When at last her hair lay limp but unsnarled, Kagome rose and looked to the simmering kettle, a grasp in the sleeve of her sleeping robe drawing her attention back down. Flushed from the heat of the bath and Kagome’s ruthless ministrations, Kanako gazed up at her with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Kagome-sama...aren’t you going to bathe too?”

Kagome frowned. Countless times in her life, she had bathed with other women without a second thought. Her school friends from the Modern Era, Sango, Rin, Mayuri—

The tub was certainly large enough to accommodate two people. Even she and Inuyasha had managed to squeeze into it on more than one occasion. But as Kagome's eyes took in the pinks of Kanako's sunken cheeks, the part of her thin lips, the pebbling of her flat chest and the slight tremor of her upbent knees, her stomach gave an uneasy twist.

"Later, maybe," she said, turning away. "It's time for breakfast now." Bending down, she rifled through a wicker chest for a spare yukata. "Here, you can wear this for today."

As Kanako dried off and dressed, Kagome returned to the hearth. Adding some salt pork and pickled vegetables to the rice, she dished it out and dined with her houseguest in almost companionable silence. If the girl would learn not to stare so much, Kagome might not be so bothered to have her around. Reminding herself that Kanako clearly didn't know any better, the miko resolved to continue coaching her. Kanako certainly seemed eager enough for the instruction.

Sending her off with a list of chores, Kagome eyed the tub, the sheen of her nightmare weighing heavy upon her. A film of sudsy residue gleamed from the water's surface. Draining the tub through a bamboo pipe that led out of doors, Kagome rinsed and re-filled it before climbing in.

Her lashes descended as she relaxed into the balmy heat. Letting her head loll back against the wooden rim, she pushed her damp hair out of her eyes as they closed. The water's warmth was cocooning, embracing. A sultriness that enfolded and untethered her, spiriting her away to another time and place.

To the last pleasant hours she had known.

Adrift in the velvety darkness, she remembered the deserted bathhouse in Tatsumi castle—remembered the lush, pillowing press of full breasts against her back, the spread of soft, feminine thighs around her hips. Gentle, practiced fingers carded through her soap-slicked tresses. Warm breath whispered along her ear, bittersweet with the tang of sake.

Heady with promise.

 _Tell me about Edo village, Kagome-chan. Tell me about your friends, your family. Your dreams and desires. I want to know everything—I want to know everything about_ you _._

Kagome's lips trembled, her heart thudding slowly and audibly beneath her clammy palm. Nimble and delicate, Mayuri’s phantom fingers smoothed along her brow, before trailing away down her neck, her spine. Against her backside, Kagome felt the feathery brush of floating curls, the slide of satin arms around her waist and shoulders.

 _I feel like I've known you all my life—like we could be sisters._ Can _we be sisters, Kagome-chan? Living together, learning together..._

As Kagome's legs drifted apart, the fingers clutched at her chest descended. Ghosting over her quivering stomach, her touch came to rest in the aching furrow of her thighs. Cradling more than stroking, she held herself together in the curve of her hand. Her nose burned, the seams of her lashes beginning to bleed.

Needfully, she rocked forward.

_It's exciting, but a little scary. I've never left these lands before._

_I didn’t think I ever would._

Kagome sobbed, the sound muffling to a whimper in her throat. Ribbons of silky hair wove around her, teasing at her flushed, naked skin. Entwining with hers.

The world titled as she turned toward the cheek resting weightlessly upon her shoulder. Toward the voluptuous lips she would never taste. Faintly smiling, they hovered, a hairsbreadth from her own.

_Life is so full of possibilities, isn't it?_


End file.
